The Road Less Traveled
by HildeJ
Summary: Tony's injured, forcing Gibbs to examine his feelings for his second in command. GIBBS/DINOZZO SLASH! Do not read if this offends you! Hugs and thanks to tutncleo for acting as a sounding board and beta. Partly based on a prompt by mrsdinozzo.
1. Chapter 1

**The Road Less Traveled**

"Gibbs."

Special Agent Jethro Gibbs was standing outside Starbucks, waiting for his second in command to arrive. Tony was late, and the annoyance mounting inside Gibbs seeped into his voice as he answered the call.

"Boss…" Tony croaked. He mumbled something that was drowned out by a passing bus. Gibbs turned around and walked into a nearby alley in search of something resembling quiet.

"Speak up, DiNozzo! Where the hell are you? If you're out chasing women on my time again, I swear I'll have your balls for dinner."

Tony had been coming in late a few times the past couple of weeks, mumbling something about a Candy or Cindy or whatever the flavor of the month was called.

Silence ensued, broken only by some muffled sounds Gibbs couldn't quite decipher. His patience was wearing thin as images of a busty blonde forced their way into his mind.

"Tony, will you just get your ass over here, we're running late as it is."

"They got me, Boss. Don't know where I am, or who they are." Tony was talking intently, his voice barely over a whisper. Gibbs held a hand over his other ear to drown out the traffic. His heart rate was picking up as he tried to catch every word Tony was saying.

"I'm in a car, an Explorer or a van, I'm not…."

The rest of the sentence was cut off by a piercing scream of pain before the line went dead.

Tony noticed the cold first, seeping into his very bones. He couldn't quite understand why he'd be so cold. His bed was usually much warmer than this, and more comfortable, not anything like this hard unyielding surface his face was pressed against. He wondered where his pillow had gone. He slowly realized he was not in bed. Had he fallen asleep on the floor? He couldn't remember being that tired last night. His head ached, yet he couldn't remember drinking. "Shit, Anthony, not good….not good at all," he mumbled.

An unfamiliar scraping sound near his head had him awake and aware in a split second.

"Get the fuck up," a voice hissed. Tony pried open one eye as he tried to get an idea of the mess he was in. "Who sent you?"

Tony was dragged to his feet and plopped onto a chair. His arms were secured behind his back and his feet tied to the legs of the chair. Tony shook his head trying to clear his mind. Things were still fuzzy. A car. He'd been thrown into the back of a Ford, an Explorer of some kind. He looked around. A room. He tried to get an idea of where he was. No room, a warehouse. He was in a warehouse. That was why he was cold. Or was it shock? His confused mind kept firing questions, searching for answers. Three men. Armed. Information steadily trickled in and he attempted to process it all, but his brain wouldn't cooperate quickly enough right now. He shot furtive glances around the large space as he slowly assessed the shit he was in.

A hard slap across his face brought his attention back to his captor. Tony looked at him warily. He hated not having all the answers, hated being out of the loop. The man in front of him was tall and muscular. He was white, in his 40s. A dark cap cast a shadow across his face, blurring his features. Tony's brain registered the flood of details, even if he wasn't able to take it all in. The man kept looking at him, eyes hidden behind mirror lens sunglasses. Tony could see his own reflection in them; making the situation he was in even more real. This was no cool movie where the hero – Tony - would kick loose from his restraints and disarm them all with a couple of well-placed uppercuts. He was in deep shit. 'You don't need Gibbs' gut to tell you that,' he thought wryly. He'd been so focused on making sure Henderson wouldn't spot him, thereby overlooking other gangs operating in the area. He looked down on his red Ohio State jacket, grimacing as he realized it was dirty and torn.

"So, pretty boy, which motherfucker sent you? Huhn? Was it…"

"Hey, shut up," a gruff voice bellowed. "No need to give him more than he already knows, is there?" The man moved into Tony's line of vision. "Is there, sweetie?" he smiled maliciously. "What do you want?"

Yeah, good question. Why was he here? Why? Because he was an idiot who couldn't let go, that's why. It had been a Team Gibbs: 0 - Bad Guys: 10 kind of month. He didn't know why he couldn't let this particular case go. It wasn't the first time an arrogant, ruthless drug dealer got away, and it wouldn't be the last. He and Gibbs had spent what seemed like endless hours in the interrogation room with the suspect; Lewis Henderson, smirking at them. The cocaine baron had that confident, invincible look about him that reminded Tony of his father. As a result, he'd spent the last couple of weeks staking out the various locations they'd established Henderson worked out of. Nothing. He'd even been late for work a few times, trying to track him down.

Tony wasn't sure Gibbs actually bought his cover stories, and he knew he was walking a fine line here. Mentally headslapping himself, he tried to get his act together, knowing Gibbs would want him to try to gather as much intel as possible. And stay alive. He didn't have permission to die, not today. His right hand still throbbed from being stepped on. He'd barely had time to speak to Gibbs before he was found out. McGee, Tony smiled inwardly. McGee would be able to trace the call.

He suddenly found himself lying on the floor, dazed after the hard impact of his head against the concrete.

"Answer me, you little shit. Who are you?"

"I'm Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, NCIS," Tony muttered, still a little woozy from the blow to his head. 'Hell…just what ya need, DiNozzo, another concussion. Not like you haven't gotten your fair share of those through the years.' He made a conscious effort to pull himself together.

Tony noticed the surprised look flickering across the face of the man closest to him. He bent down and rooted through Tony's pockets, pulling out his ID. He flicked it open impatiently.

"Navy cops? What the fuck does NCIS want with us?" One of the men standing behind them sounded puzzled.

Tony turned his head to get a better look at the guy. No one knew NCIS. He was barely half way there before a savage blow to his head sent him spiraling into darkness again.

Gibbs felt himself go cold. "No," he muttered, "not Tony. Not happening." He pressed speed dial 3 and waited impatiently for McGee to pick up.

"Get a fix on Tony's phone. Have Ziva meet me where he made his last call," he barked, as soon as the call was answered.

"What's happened, Boss," McGee began, "is Tony in…"

"Just get the damn trace, McGee!" Gibbs yelled, before killing the connection. Taking a deep breath, Gibbs ran out of the ally in search of his car. He got in, turned the key to the ignition and sat there, staring into space a moment before he pulled out. Where to? He had no idea where Tony was. Turning around, he headed back towards the Navy Yard, planning to gather the team, get as many men as possible on the search.

His phone rang. He snapped it open, listening impatiently to McGee give him the location to Tony's phone.

"He's in Brentwood," McGee began, rattling off an address.

"Stay on him, McGee, let me know if he moves. Tony's kidnapped, probably injured." He ignored McGee's startled response. "I need as much man power as you can muster on this, McGee. Call Ducky and have him meet me there."

"What…" the younger agent interrupted.

"Now, McGee!" Gibbs ended the call and turned north again, hurtling towards the location McGee had given him. He refused to consider what he could find there. There was just no way Tony would not come out of this ok. "I did not give you permission to die," he shouted, pounding his fist into the steering wheel, cursing as he cut in front of a slow moving station wagon. "God damn Volvos," he muttered, ignoring the startled faces peering at him from the other car. A loud blaring horn clearly signaled what the other driver thought of him. Gibbs took no notice of it. All that mattered was to get to Tony in time.

Tony regained consciousness, his head protesting loudly as he pried one eye open. He bit back a groan, not wanting to alert his captors that he was awake. He was inside a car and they were on the move. He could hear two male voices from the front of the vehicle, but wasn't able to make out what was said. Ignoring the throbbing pain that had taken up residence behind his right eye, he tried to move his hands, only to find they were not tied together. 'Sloppy,' he thought. Tony searched the immediate area around his body, a wave of relief washing over him as he found what felt like his cell phone wedged behind a bag. 'Very sloppy.' He felt like cheering, but settled for pressing speed dial one.

Gibbs' phone rang and he flipped it open as he skidded around a corner, tires screeching as they fought to keep the car going forward.

"He's on the move, Bossman," Abby said. "Tony's going southeast on Eastern Ave."

"Where's McGee?"

"He and Ziva are on their way. You find Tony, Gibbs, and bring him home. Ok?"

"I promise, Abby," Gibbs said before hanging up again. Traffic was picking up, as rush hour approached. He was heading north on New York Ave. when Abby called again.

"The signal's moving right onto Bladensburg Rd., Gibbs, going south. Turn left, a couple of miles from your current location."

Gibbs' mind raced through possible scenarios as his eyes scanned the road, moving as fast as humanly possible. Who could have grabbed him? The list of possible suspects was too long. There was no way of knowing who could be responsible for this. He began to mentally cross off the most likely candidates, needing to do something. His phone rang again a couple of minutes later, interrupting his chain of thought. Gibbs' heart skipped a beat as he glanced at the caller ID. DiNozzo. It was Tony. He was alive.

"Tony," he said. Silence. No reply. "Tony, if you can't talk, press a button."

He heard a faint beep and went on. "I'm coming to get you, Tony. You _will_ be alright, you hear?" Another faint beep. "I've gotta hang up, Tony, Abby's giving me directions."

He could hear Tony sigh, and then the phone went dead.

A few seconds later it rang again. "Gibbs," he said tersely.

"The car's stopped, Gibbs, Pleasant Hill Cemetery. Turn right on Bladensburg Rd., they just passed New York Ave."

He was only a few minutes behind Tony; he _would_ make it in time.

They were slowing down, and Tony could hear the noise from the traffic fading away. A few moments later the car stopped completely. Before he could react, the rear door was yanked open and suddenly Tony's hand was pulled out, still clutching the cell. The door was slammed shut, crushing his fingers. The pain was excruciating and ripped a scream from him, his phone clattering as it fell onto the ground. A couple of guys appeared and he was hauled out by the scruff of his neck and pushed onto a lawn. A stone angel was gazing solemnly down on him and he looked around, confusion and fear mounting. Were they going to kill him? In the distance he could here a car approaching. Before he could call for help, a savage kick to his gut had him doubled over on the ground. He saw the man lift his foot, ready to plant that big, steel capped boot in Tony's face when he suddenly disappeared from his line of vision. Tony suffered another blow to his head, before they were all gone.

The ground felt surprisingly soft beneath his cheek, and he struggled to hold onto consciousness a little bit longer. Gibbs. He had to call Gibbs…had…why…

He dimly registered the car revving its engine, the sound getting louder and louder. A searing pain ripped through his leg, before the car sped away. Darkness swept him up and he let it, relieved the agony was gone.

Gibbs turned into the cemetery, his eyes sweeping the grounds as he forced himself to drive slowly. The place was nearly deserted; he could see a group of nuns dressed in vivid blue robes walking off in the distance. He was driving up a small hill, turning around a bend in the road when a glimpse of red caught his eye amongst all the green grass and stone monuments. As he got closer, Gibbs could see it was a man, unmoving and pale. Tony. The red Ohio State jacket was unmistakable, even though he hadn't seen him wear it in a while. He cut across the lawn and got out his phone, quickly giving his location to Ducky. There was no time to waste, they needed to get Tony to the hospital. In the distance he could hear a car speeding away, but he didn't care. All that mattered was Tony.

Tony looked pale and lifeless, not the animated, vibrant picture he normally presented. His face was covered in several blooming bruises, and dried blood had stained his shirt. The front of his jacket was torn and Gibbs could see that his right hand was swollen; a couple of fingers looked broken.

Trying not to jostle Tony too much, he looked him over carefully, as the full extent of his injuries became clear. A nearly uncontrollable rage rose in him when he realized that the marks on Tony's pants were tire marks and his leg was broken.

Gibbs gently brushed the hair away from Tony's forehead as he said his name, trying to get his attention.

"You came," Tony croaked, looking at Gibbs through his good eye. Gibbs let his hand rest on his cheek for a moment. Tony's fingers closed around his wrist, holding on when Gibbs tried to let go.

"Can't have you goofing off on my time, DiNozzo. Gotta haul your ass back into the office, you still have all those folders to file," Gibbs replied, in a feeble attempt to crack a joke.

"Yeah, love you too, boss," Tony smiled, before closing his eyes again, going very still.

"Tony, you with me?" Gibbs asked, his fingers gently stroking Tony's face. There was no reaction. Cradling Tony's head in his lap, he flipped open his phone again, wondering where the hell Ducky was. Before he got that far, the NCIS van pulled up, closely followed by an ambulance. The quiet cemetery was soon a beehive of activity, as Tony was stabilized and driven off.

Gibbs was ready to follow the ambulance when McGee and Ziva pulled up. "What the hell took you so long?" Gibbs demanded, as they walked over to him. McGee appeared unfazed by his terse tone; he even looked strangely satisfied.

"We arrested the guys that had Tony," McGee declared to Gibbs' surprise. "Abby told us where Tony was located, and Metro assisted us, blocking the entrances to the cemetery. As soon as the car exited, we had them." He paused. "How's Tony doing?" he asked, worry bleeding into his voice.

"How the hell did you manage to get there in time?" Gibbs wanted to know, ignoring the question. He refused to dwell on the memory of a battered Tony right now.

"We got lucky," McGee conceded. "Metro had a couple of cruisers in the area, and one entrance was already blocked due to maintenance on the gate."

"Good work, McGee," Gibbs nodded; pleased they'd managed to find the bastards. "You and Ziva head back to the Yard, I'll be at Bethesda if you need me." He'd turned around when Ziva grabbed his arm. "How is Tony, Gibbs? Will he be alright?" Her eyes were large and worried, and she was uncharacteristically subdued.

"I don't know, Ziva. He was conscious when I got to him, but he was out by the time the paramedics arrived. I'll let you know as soon as I have any news."

"You don't want to interrogate them?" Ziva asked, looking surprised.

"No, you and McGee can handle it. I have somewhere else I need to be." With that he left them, jogging over to his abandoned car as he was mentally mapping out the quickest route to the hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to Bethesda seemed to take forever. In the back of his mind he registered a steady stream of blaring horns, flashing headlights and cars. Too many cars. They slowed him down, kept him from getting to his wounded agent quickly enough. Agonizing minutes later he burst through the doors of the hospital, and quickly headed towards the ER. Flipping open his phone, he ignored the dismayed glare from a passing nurse, as he walked through the endless hospital corridors.

"Ducky!" he said, as the phone was picked up on the other end. "How is he? Where are you?"

"We're in the Emergency Room, Jethro, Building 9, at the back."

"I damn well know which building it's in, Ducky!" Jethro growled, before ending the call. A couple of minutes later he burst through the doors of the ER, looking around until he found Dr. Mallard.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

"They're trying to determine how serious his injuries are. He's undergoing a neurological exam at the moment, and will have a CT scan as soon as the initial exam is concluded. They also need to x-ray his leg and his head, to make sure there's no head trauma or…"

"Head trauma?" Gibbs interrupted. "Is he still unconscious?"

"Not at the moment, no," Dr. Mallard reassured him.

"I need to see him," Gibbs said, moving to walk further into the room, to seek Tony out. He could see a discarded red and white jacket lying in a heap on a chair, realizing that was where Tony was.

"Not, yet, Jethro. Let them do their job, we can see him later."

"I can't…" Gibbs started, but was interrupted by a voice behind him, calling him name.

Turning around, he came face to face with Ziva. "What the hell are you doing here?" Gibbs yelled, the moment he saw her.

She stuck her chin out defiantly. "McGee's handling the booking. I wanted to make sure Tony was ok. We're letting the perps stew for a while, anyway, before we interview them."

Gibbs got into her personal space and spoke very clearly and quietly. "I expect you to follow orders, Ziva. If I can't trust you, you're off my team. You got that? Tony's _my_ responsibility, not yours."

Ziva looked as if he'd struck her. "You can't…"

"I can't what, Ziva? Tell you what to do?" he yelled. "I sure as hell can," he growled. He dimly registered people turning to look at them, but couldn't care less right now.

"Jethro!" A strong hand on his arm had him turn around. "Come with me," Ducky said firmly.

Gibbs opened his mouth to protest, but recognizing the look in his friend's eyes, he conceded, with a sigh.

"Don't tell me how to run my team, Ducky," he began, "just don't."

"What's gotten into to you, Jethro, I haven't seen you this agitated since…" he broke off, as if he suddenly realized something.

"Since what, Ducky?" Jethro growled impatiently.

"I'm sorry, my friend, I should have grasped this earlier," Dr. Mallard said absentmindedly. "You deal with Ziva, and I'll get an update on Tony's condition."

Gibbs felt relieved. He knew he was missing a couple of clues, but then again, Ducky's ramblings often didn't make much sense to him.

Ziva was waiting by the entrance, arms crossed over her chest. She had an unreadable expression on her face. He assumed she was pissed as hell, but right now he wasn't interested in considering her feelings.

"Why are you still here?" he said tersely the moment he reached her.

"I told you why," she replied, her eyes flashing angrily. "I want to know what's happening to Tony."

"There's no news yet, Ziva. Get back to the yard." He turned around and went in search of Ducky again.

He found him talking to a man who introduced himself as Dr. Thomas Selleck. "We're just about ready to take Agent DiNozzo up for a CT scan," he explained.

"Boss," a voice behind him croaked.

"Hey, Tony," Gibbs said, "I just spoke to Dr. Selleck. They will examine your head, make sure you don't have any internal injuries."

"Yeah, how cool is that?" Tony replied, "I'm being treated by Dr. Selleck. Last time it was Dr. Pitt, and this time it's Magnum!" He giggled, and Gibbs got worried.

"Hey, Doc, he's not making much sense."

"What happened?" Dr. Selleck asked, as he flipped out a small penlight, and shone it into Tony's eyes.

"He's talking about being treated by Magnum, and something about when he was here with the Y Pestis?" To his surprise, the doctor just smiled.

"Ah, another _Magnum PI_ fan," he sighed. "I get a lot of that." He noticed the frown on Gibbs' face and explained, "Magnum was played by Tom Selleck. No relation," he added. "And no moustache."

"So he's not delirious," Gibbs clarified, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease up a fraction.

"No, he's not," the doctor assured him before they wheeled Tony towards the elevators.

As the gurney rolled past him, Tony's arm shot out and grabbed Gibbs' hand. "Will you be here when I get back?"

When he nodded, Tony let go and closed his eyes, looking at peace as he was taken away.

Dr. Mallard returned a few minutes later, handing Gibbs a cup of coffee. "You look like you need it," he remarked.

"Yeah, I do. What a mess," he declared, sipping carefully. He felt like pacing, but made a conscious effort to remain calm.

"Tony will be gone for a while, why don't we find the cafeteria and have a bite to eat?" the older man suggested.

"Not hungry," Gibbs grunted, reluctant to leave the ER.

"Well, I am. Indulge an old man, won't you? Tony is in good hands, Jethro, and since I assume you will be spending the night here, we need to prepare for that. My father's cousin Iain used to say that half the journey was done before the trip itself. Think ahead, he would say, always leave room for the unexpected. One year, he was hiking in the Central Highlands…"

Lifting his hands in mock surrender, Gibbs let himself be guided down into the dining hall in the basement of the building. The line wasn't too long, and soon they each had a tray of warm food. He didn't have much of an appetite, but he knew Ducky wouldn't let this go. They sat down in a quiet corner, both tucking into their stew/hamburger. Gibbs eyed the vegetables suspiciously; he'd never been a fan of overcooked peas and carrots. He glanced at Ducky and found his friend looking at him, worry and concern etched into his features.

"He will be ok, you know, Ducky," he said quietly. "Tony's a fighter, he'll pull through this. If he's remembering _Magnum_, they can't have kicked him too hard in the head," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Actually, I am worried about you, Jethro," Ducky replied, to Gibbs' surprise.

"I'm not the one you should be concerned about, Ducky," Gibbs said firmly.

"You don't usually react like this when one of your team is injured, not even Tony."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gibbs shook his head. "I yelled at him, Ducky, when he called me the first time. I thought he was sneaking off with another woman." Gibbs looked down at his food, pushing the offending peas around on his plate. "I immediately thought he was slacking off, and I guess I feel bad about that," he admitted.

"Mmm," Ducky replied, not looking entirely convinced. "Young Anthony has done so in the past," he agreed, "I think we all remember the pretty blonde Ari used for bait. I was not aware, however, that he has pulled a stunt like that in a long time."

"He's been distracted," Gibbs defended himself. "Coming in late a few times, shutting me out."

"Interesting," Dr. Mallard nodded. "I still don't understand…"

"There's nothing to understand, Ducky, or analyze. Tony was in danger, and I wasted valuable time yelling at him."

"You came through, Jethro. You got there in time. They could have…"

"Yeah, let's not go there, Ducky," Gibbs interrupted. "So, what happened to your cousin Iain?" he went on, eager to change the topic.

"Who? Ah, I'm afraid I made that up. He _was_ my cousin, well, more like an uncle, really, since he was my father's cousin. Iain was considerably older than me, but I adored him as a child. He used to come up every summer, taught me how to play poker and bridge."

"Hang on, made what up?" Gibbs asked, finally catching up with the doctor's tale.

"Ah, yes. I assumed, correctly if I may say, that if you had to choose between a meal and one of my rambling stories, food would win out."

Gibbs laughed out loud. "You've got a devious mind, Duck. But," he said, lifting up a hand when he saw the doctor was about to protest, "you're a good friend, thanks."

They finished their meal in silence.

"So, what lies ahead for Tony?" Gibbs asked, as they were nursing their second cup of hospital coffee an hour later.

"It will depend on the extent of his injuries, as you well know. I'm sure they are going to keep him in for observation for a 24 hr period. Why don't we just wait and see until they bring him back?" he suggested, glancing at his wrist watch. "Why don't you check in with McGee, Jethro, while I find out which room Anthony will be in."

Gibbs looked at Ducky's retreating back, then fished out his cell and called McGee. The phone rang a few times before he picked up.

"Sorry, Boss. Had to get out of interrogation bef..."

"What've you got, McGee?" Gibbs interrupted, impatience mounting inside him.

"Not much yet, Boss. It appears they thought Tony was after information about their operation. One of them is a known drug dealer, has a few convictions for assault. Metro has tried to get a case against him for drugs, but he's slipped through the net, so far. It seems to be a case of mistaken identity, Boss." He paused. "We did pick up Tony's signal close to one of Henderson's known locations, he might have been doing some investigation on his own," McGee suggested carefully.

"Damn it," Gibbs cursed "I'll kick his ass as soon as he gets out of the hospital," he muttered.

"How is Tony, any news, Boss?" McGee asked.

"Don't know yet," Gibbs replied. "I'll call as soon as I know more," he promised. "Good job, McGee."

"Actually, it was Ziva who got them talking. She can be very…uhm…persuasive," McGee said. "I'm not sure I've seen Ziva this…uh…determined since the Murray murder."

Gibbs nodded to himself, remembering the murder/mutilation case they had solved a year earlier.

"I need a favor, McGee. There's an overnight bag in my car. Bring it over later, I'm staying the night."

"Will do, Boss."

Gibbs ended the call. He rubbed his hand wearily over his face before going in search of Dr. Mallard. Maybe there was news about Tony, maybe he would get to see him, make sure he was ok.

Gibbs went back upstairs, to the ER. He wasn't sure where the Ducky had gone but the information desk should provide him with the details he needed. Walking through the ER, he couldn't see Dr. Mallard anywhere, but Gibbs knew he would be back as soon as he had something.

Still, he couldn't just sit and wait. He had to do something, anything, to alleviate the sinking feeling he'd failed Tony. Why hadn't he picked up on the fact that Tony was running an undercover op on his own? "God damn it," he muttered, slamming his hand into the wall as a surge of anger flared up inside him. A passing doctor stopped and he smiled reassuringly, before going in search of the information desk.

Ten minutes later he was running through a corridor, checking the numbers on the doors as he passed them. He wasn't sure whether Tony was there yet, it depended on the results of the x-rays.

Room 209, he was getting close. He slowed down and stepped up to 215. The door was ajar and he spotted an empty bed inside. No Tony. Disappointed, he walked inside and found Ducky gazing out the window.

"Jethro!" he exclaimed, "I was just about to call you. Any news from McGee?"

"A case of mistaken identity. They thought Tony was spying on them, gathering information for a rivaling drug operation. I'll kick his ass to kingdom come for this," he growled.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid that particular type of corporal punishment will have to wait for a while, Jethro," Dr. Mallard admonished. "The preliminary results of the test suggest no serious head trauma, although he does have a severe concussion. No head slaps, either, Jethro, should that particular urge arise."

"I'm not a total idiot, Ducky," Gibbs muttered.

"Yes, well, that remains to be seen," the doctor said, cocking an eyebrow as he held Gibbs' eyes.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Gibbs sighed. "Fine, Ducky. I promise not to lay a hand on Tony, how's that?"

"What, no headslaps?"

Gibbs turned around, and found himself looking at a very pale Tony. "Well, no headslaps _for now_, DiNozzo. Come next week all bets are off," he grumbled, but couldn't quite keep a smile off his face. Gibbs hadn't realized how tense he's been until he felt his stomach unclench a bit at the sight of his second in command. Alive, breathing, even trying to crack a joke.

Gibbs turned to the doctor that accompanied Tony as the nurses got him settled, hooking up to the various machines that were monitoring his condition. Gibbs wasn't sure what half of it was, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was that Tony was fine.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs, Agent DiNozzo's boss at NCIS"

The doctor shook his hand, and introduced himself, "Dr. Weir." He glanced at his charts and continued.

"As far as we have been able to ascertain, there is no sub-cranial bleeding or trauma. Normally, we'd keep him in the ER for a few hours, but we're unusually busy today, which is why he's transferred to the medical ward. We'd like to keep him here for observation, at least for another day. The x-rays confirmed he has a broken fibula. It was a clean break, and his leg is set and in a cast. He will be out of commission for a while, although he's already nagging the nurses about an early release. Something about a boss that will be on his case if he's not back on duty tomorrow."

Gibbs snorted. "That would be me. Believe me, he won't see the inside of the bullpen for a very long time."

"Bullpen?"

"Our squad room at NCIS," he clarified.

"The leg injury will keep him from active duty for a while, but he can be back on desk duty in a couple of weeks. He's got a serious concussion, Agent Gibbs, and will need rest to prevent complications."

"I'll make sure of that," Gibbs said grimly, turning to look at Tony's pale form. There was no way in hell he'd let Tony back at NCIS for at least that amount of time, no matter how much he begged. Tony met his gaze and managed a weak smile before he closed them again.

The room was quiet, apart from the faint sounds from the hallway. Tony was asleep, resting peacefully. The afternoon seemed to have passed in a blur. Between all the nurses, the tests and the checkups, there had been no time for Gibbs to talk to Tony. He got up and walked to the bathroom, needing to wash up for the evening. McGee and Ziva had been by with his overnight bag. They'd stayed a couple of minutes with Tony, both clearly needing to assure themselves he was ok. Ziva still looked upset, but he had no time for her ruffled feathers. Abby had been strangely subdued. He'd promised to call her if Tony's condition changed. After an hour by his side, she'd finally gone home, but not before promising to be back in the morning. She'd left Bert by Tony's side, resting his injured hand on the soft toy.

Ducky had remained behind, offering to sit with Tony through the night. Gibbs had flatly refused, urging the older man to go home and rest. "He'll need us in the coming week, Ducky. I'm sure he'll persuade the docs here to spring him into your care. I'm gonna need you to stop by the house, make sure he's recovering as he should."

"You're taking him home?" Dr. Mallard had asked,

"Of course I'm taking him home," Gibbs had retorted, "I'm not sleeping on that lumpy old couch of his!"

"Are you sure you're the best choice, Jethro? You've not been in the best of moods today, even for you. Anthony needs rest, and not to be subjected to your particular brand of…uh… care."

Gibbs had snorted, "Ya think, Ducky? I might be a bastard, but I'm not that big of a bastard. I want to keep an eye on him, and he can have the den. He won't have to climb the stairs every day. I'll even have McGee set up his TV in there, when he's well enough to watch it."

Ducky had still seemed doubtful, but Gibbs had been adamant. The subject was closed. Before Dr. Mallard had left for the evening, he'd managed to arrange for a bed for Gibbs. Although he'd thought it was excessive at the time, right now he was grateful for the opportunity to stretch his legs, to lie down and have some rest. He wasn't sure he would be able to sleep, there were too many thoughts swirling around in his head, each too fleeting to grasp.

In the end, he'd settled for watching Tony's still form. The light was turned down low, to give Tony a chance to rest. He felt himself calm down as he listened to Tony's steady breathing. After a while he turned onto his back, and lay gazing at the ceiling when he heard Tony move.

"You stayed," he said quietly.

"Mhm," Gibbs replied, too tired to say much.

"I'm sorry," Tony went on, "I should have…"

"Yeah, ya should have," Gibbs interrupted. "Let it go, Tony. You need to rest."

Tony didn't reply, just turned his head slowly and looked at Gibbs. "When are you leaving?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Tony. Try and get some sleep, Tony, we'll talk in the morning."

There was a long pause, and Gibbs looked up to see if Tony had fallen asleep. He found him still looking troubled. "DiNozzo!" he grumbled, "Get some shuteye, will ya?"

"Yes, Boss…"

Soon after the room fell quiet again, as both men drifted off.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Tony DiNozzo couldn't sleep. The unfamiliar sounds of the hospital had roused him from sleep before 0530. The insistent throbbing in his head didn't help either, reminding him of his stupidity the day before. He couldn't remember much, everything felt fuzzy and his head protested loudly as he looked around the room. It was still shady this early in the morning, and it took him a moment to identify his surroundings. He reached for the controls to the bed, only to realize his index finger was in a splint, taped to his middle finger. "At least I get out of typing reports for a while," he mumbled. Reaching clumsily for the controls with his left hand, Tony raised his bed up a bit, wanting to get a better idea of the damage.

Soft and steady breathing from the bed next to his had him momentarily puzzled, but looking over, he saw his boss sleeping peacefully. His heart plummeted into his stomach and he realized how woozy he felt. God, he had fucked up. This had to be an all time low, even with his propensity to screw up.

Tony ran his hand over his head, wishing he had a mirror. He could feel a bump the size of a goose egg on his temple and a dressing on the back of his head. An image of a man lifting his foot to kick him fleeted across his mind. He could vaguely remember being hit across the head a few times, but none of the details. Lifting the covers, he saw a dark blue bruise decorating the lower half of his left side. "Nice," Tony muttered. He wondered how long before Ducky would let him back on active duty. He became aware of his elevated leg, and his heart sank. He had no idea how serious the injury was. The thought of not being able to return to active duty had him momentarily panicked, but he refused to give in. No matter what, he would be back on the team. There was simply no other alternative.

Sinking back into the pillows, he tried to make sense of his behavior these last few weeks. He couldn't explain to himself why he'd needed to solve this particular case. Maybe he'd just reached his limit, maybe he couldn't see another bad guy walk. Even as he tried to put it into words, he knew this wasn't the whole truth. They had the highest solve rate in the agency; most of the time they did catch their guy. What was so different this time? He closed his eyes and let his mind wander for a while, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach and the fact that his bladder was screaming at him to get up.

Giving in, he called for the nurse, who walked in a few minutes later. She took care of the business quietly and efficiently, which he was grateful for. He didn't want to wake Gibbs up, not yet. The thought of facing him just wasn't very appealing right now.

"Hey, you sleep ok?"

"Sorry, boss, didn't mean to wake you," Tony mumbled, turning to look at the other man. He'd hoped to have a bit more time before having to face the music. He doubted his patented DiNozzo charm could get him out of this mess.

"I could practically hear the wheels turning in your head. Wanna share?"

Tony snorted. "What, talk about my feelings? Since when have we done that?"

"You told me how you felt when you got framed for murder," Gibbs pointed out.

"You gonna bring that up _now_? While I'm in hospital for fucking up again?" Tony replied incredulously. He was in no mood for a lecture. Not when his head was throbbing, and his stomach lurched every time he moved.

"You didn't fuck up back then, Tony! You _did_ fuck up now, and we're gonna have a talk about rule 15."

"Like when you run off with Mike Franks?" Tony muttered, not ready to roll over just yet.

In the silence that followed, Tony wondered if he'd crossed a line. Apparently, being zonked out on pain meds loosened his tongue.

"At least I brought backup, damn it! How the hell could you do something this stupid, Tony? Haven't I slapped some sense into you yet?"

"I'm…I don't…never mind," Tony said weakly and turned his head away from Gibbs.

Tony shrunk in on himself, looking smaller and younger, and Gibbs immediately regretted having yelled at him. He realized, with a wince, that he didn't have the greatest track record when it came to following his own rules, at least not all of them. Still, he couldn't quite quell the anger that surged up inside when he thought about what could have happened to Tony.

"I've disappointed you…" The words were spoken so quietly Gibbs could hardly hear them.

Before Gibbs could reply, a bubbly nurse came into the room, wishing them both good morning. He didn't even have time to answer her before she whipped the curtain around Tony's bed closed. Gibbs could hear the sounds of a washcloth being wrung out as Tony was given a sponge bath. He stretched tentatively, groaning softly as an almost sleepless night made itself known. 'You're getting old, Gunny,' he thought wearily. Picking up his overnight bag, he headed into the en suite bathroom, hoping a long, hot shower would relax the knots he could feel in his shoulders. He was always worried when someone on his team was injured, but when it was Tony…He shook it off, refusing to go there.

Half an hour later Gibbs emerged feeling slightly more human. All he needed now was a cup of industrial strength coffee. He subconsciously checked the room, and found the nurse was gone. Tony sat propped up in bed, picking at a plate of food in front of him. The cereal clearly wasn't temping, and he looked like the mouthfuls he had eaten were threatening to come back up. That particular shade of green was not something he saw often on DiNozzo. The room was lit now, and Gibbs' anger flared up again when he saw the full extent of Tony's injuries. He made an effort to stay calm, taking a few calming breaths before walking closer. Tony studiously avoided looking at Gibbs as he walked up to his bed.

"Feeling ok, Tony?"

"What? Yeah…" Tony trailed off, still not looking at Gibbs. The bowl of fruit in front of him apparently held the meaning of life.

"Has the doctor been by?" Gibbs asked, not wanting to push Tony further right now.

"Too early," was the brief reply. "The nurse said he'd be by in about an hour," Tony added, finally looking at Gibbs. He paused for a moment, and then seemed to make a decision. Gibbs recognized that look; he'd become pretty good at reading Tony over the years.

"Look, I know I fucked up, Gibbs. Could you just yell at me and get it over with?"

"No," Gibbs replied. "This was my fault, too. I should have known something was up. I wasn't paying attention." The warning signs had been there, he just hadn't recognized them. Tony had seemed preoccupied, but Gibbs had chalked that up the office rumors that his Senior Agent was dating again. He knew Tony hadn't been dating since the whole Jeanne travesty, so it should have been be a good sign that Tony was back in the saddle. He'd had a gnawing feeling in his gut ever since Tony had started mumbling about 'hot dates', and Gibbs silently cursed himself for not listening to his instincts. He hadn't, and now Tony was paying the price for that mistake.

"We both fucked this one up, Tony. Let it go."

Tony closed his eyes and sank back into the scrunched up pillows.

"I need coffee," Gibbs said after a few moments of silence, "and I'm gonna call McGee, get an update on the case. Back in 10." Tony nodded, but when it became clear he would remain silent, Gibbs grabbed his wallet off of the nightstand, and got up. They could talk later.

As he walked down the corridor, he flipped open his phone, ignoring once again the dismayed looks from passersby.

"What've you got, McGee?" A quick account of the case followed, as McGee took him through the main points.

"Ok. See if you can uncover more about their operation. Get a warrant and have Ziva head a team to search their homes and other known addresses. Vance'll assign her a couple of agents."

"How's Tony doing, Boss?" McGee asked after a moment of silence.

"He looks like hell, but he'll live."

"Don't be too hard on him, Boss. He meant well."

"I know, McGee." Gibbs ended the call. A couple of minutes later, he was standing outside the entrance enjoying his first cup of coffee of the day. He'd picked up a sandwich and the morning paper at the cafeteria for later. The conversation in Tony's room kept playing back in his mind. Knowing Tony, he would do anything to make up for his mistake, trying to do too much, too soon. "Not happening," he muttered. There was no way Tony was going to do himself any harm on his watch. He fished out his phone again and called Vance.

"I need a couple of weeks off, Leon." He turned around and walked back through doors.

"You're a calling me at seven in the morning to ask for time off?" Vance asked, annoyance bleeding into his voice. "In the middle of an investigation into the assault on your senior agent?"

"McGee is heading up the case; his collar, his case. I've got months of vacation on the books, Leon. Tony's probably up there harassing the staff into releasing him early. That's fine, but he's coming home with me. I need to keep an eye on him."

"You and DiNozzo, stuck under the same roof for two weeks? Good luck with that," Vance replied, sounding a bit more cheerful. "Just don't shoot him, Jethro and keep him out of trouble. He'll be released into Ducky's care, I presume?"

"Yes. I haven't talked to him yet, but I'm sure he can't resist the DiNozzo charm," Gibbs replied dryly.

"I'll have the paperwork ready later today," Vance said, before ending the call.

Gibbs paused outside Tony's room, draining the last of the coffee while wondering whether to call Ducky. He noticed the door was ajar, and heard voices drifting into the corridor. Ducky. Gibbs smiled and pushed the door fully open. The older man was in the middle of one of his stories. Gibbs was relieved to see Tony looking a little better; there was even a small smile on his face as he listened to the doctor.

"…as you can imagine, my father was not amused by the prospect of replacing all of Mrs. Duncan's…" He became aware of Gibbs and turned around. "Jethro! I was just telling young Anthony here about the time when my cousin Leslie and I raided poor Mrs. Duncan's…"

"Ducky," Gibbs interrupted, sensing another long-winded story coming. "I need a word," he said, nodding towards the hallway.

"Of course, Jethro," Dr. Mallard replied, patting Tony's hand as he got up. "We'll be right back, my dear boy."

"Has he asked you to spring him, yet?" Gibbs asked, with a grin when Ducky emerged into the hallway.

"Only five times in the last five minutes," the doctor chuckled.

"Is he well enough to be released?" Gibbs leaned against the wall and fished the sandwich out of his jacket pocket. Although his team probably thought he survived on coffee alone, he was actually feeling hungry.

"I'd rather he stayed another day, but knowing Anthony, he's likely to sign himself out. I can have him released into my care," he said with a wry shake of his head, "and there is no point in keeping him here if the attending doctor gives him the all clear. I am afraid, though, that he will return to work far too soon."

"He's coming home with me," Gibbs said firmly, finishing off his sandwich.

"That's all well and good, Jethro, but you should have someone be there with him when you're at work. If he's left to his own devices, he will do something foolish, I'm sure."

"I'm taking a couple of weeks off," Gibbs replied, jutting his chin out defiantly. He was sure Ducky's notion of his ability to take care of DiNozzo wasn't any better than Vance's.

A strange blend of emotions flickered across Ducky's face and disappeared before Gibbs could make them out.

"I see. Yes, well, you haven't had a vacation in far too long, and I'm sure Anthony will appreciate the sentiment. Do try and be gentle with him, Jethro," Dr. Mallard admonished. "He's bound to get on your nerves, cooped up like that."

"I'm not an idiot," Gibbs retorted.

Ducky mumbled something Gibbs didn't quite catch, although he did make out the words 'dense' and 'under your nose'. Gibbs frowned, wondering what the doctor was on about.

"I'll have to take your word for that, Special Agent Gibbs," Ducky replied, still looking doubtful. "Now, should we go and break the good news to the poor boy?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** My sincere apologies for the incredibly late update. RL zapped all energy out of me. I will do better with the next update :) HildeJ

How the hell had he ended up in this shit? Tony closed his eyes, trying to will it all away. Yesterday his life was perfectly fine. OK, so he was running an unauthorized op, and yes, he'd gotten caught and was beaten to a pulp, but that still had to better than this. *This* had to be someone's twisted idea of a joke. Two weeks under Gibbs' roof, being with Gibbs 24/7! How the hell was he supposed to keep up the pretence? His boss was an expert investigator, for crying out loud. How long would Tony be able to maintain his carefully constructed masks without slipping up? "Purgatory," he muttered, rubbing his forehead, trying to ease the pain shooting through his left eye, "this has to be purgatory."

"Now, now, my dear boy, don't exaggerate! I'm sure you and Gibbs will get along just fine," Ducky admonished him, not looking completely convinced when Tony cracked an eye open to see if he was serious. A couple of hours had gone by since Gibbs had announced Tony was staying with him while he was recuperating. Tony still couldn't believe the surprising turn of events. Sure, he'd expected a lecture and a few visits from Abby, under orders to keep an eye on him, but nothing like this.

Tony snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure this is Gibbs' idea of fun. Spending his first real holiday in years with me. Babysitting *me*," he groaned.

"Jethro needs to keep an eye on you, Anthony, for his own sake as well as yours, I believe."

"He doesn't trust me, you mean," Tony replied quietly, picking on the hem of his sheet.

"That is not what I meant at all!" Ducky protested, not getting any further before the door opened and a big bouquet of huge red and silver balloons floated inside, closely followed by a subdued-looking Abby. She hovered by the door, as if she was unsure of her welcome.

"Is it ok to visit?" she asked, remaining uncharacteristically still for Abby. Tony couldn't remember the last time she'd looked like this. Abby was constant movement, hands flying over keyboards or excitedly gesticulating to emphasize what she was saying.

"Hey, Abbs," Tony said, unable to keep a smile off his face. Abby could always make him feel better, even when he was really down. She walked over to the bed and gave him a gentle kiss.

"How's your head?" she asked, as she ghosted her hand over his chin. The featherlike touch made his heart ache. She shouldn't be this concerned about him. Tony resumed picking at the hem of his sheet, unable to meet her eyes. She grasped his good hand, and held on tight. "You will be fine, Tony," she said intently.

"Yeah?" Tony asked, "you sure about that?"

"Yes, I am!" she stressed. "Right, Ducky?" she asked, turning towards him. Ducky was busy reading his chart, but he nodded absentmindedly.

"I'm not sure Gibbs will want me back on the team," Tony said quietly. "I may have gone one step too far this time, Abby. He probably doesn't even trust me anymore. And why should he?" Abby and Ducky exchanged a look, but Tony wasn't able to interpret the unsaid words that seemed to be flowing between them.

"What?" he said, exasperated, "do you know something I don't?"

"I know many things you don't," Abby replied cheerfully. " Like the number of times McGee had to ask Agent Sanchez in Cyber Crimes out before she agreed to go on a date with him, the best way to make fake blood, and," she continued, pausing for dramatic effect," "the name of Ziva's new boyfriend." Tony couldn't help it, he had to laugh. "Only you could mention McLoverboy and fake blood in the same sentence," he chuckled, clutching an arm around his chest.

"I'm also certain Gibbs is not taking time off because he's pissed at you and wants to have you within slapping distance for the next two weeks!" she said, smiling sweetly as Tony automatically reached up to smooth down the hair at the back of his head.

His headache subsided slowly as the morning wore on. Abby and Ducky filled the time with endless chatter, and Tony let it all wash over him. He still couldn't believe he had to spend the next two weeks at Gibbs' house. Not that he didn't like staying there. They normally got on fine, whenever his apartment was flooded or when there was no central heating in January. Tony tried to keep out of Gibbs' way and usually cooked as a way of saying 'thank you'. They even talked. Well, mostly Tony talked and Gibbs listened, but he was there, and that meant a lot to Tony.

Around eleven Dr. Weir came by with a list of instructions for Tony, urging him to be smart and reminding him of long term effects he could suffer if he didn't take his concussion seriously. Tony nodded and gave all the appropriate answers, too eager to leave to put up a fight.

"Oh, he'll do as he's told, Doc. I'll see to that."

Tony groaned as he became aware of Gibbs' presence. "Yes, Boss," he replied, resignation seeping into his voice. There was no turning back now. He might as well just accept this was out of his control. "Abby, could you drop by my apartment and pick up a few things for me? I'm gonna need some clothes and…"

"Already taken care of," Gibbs interrupted him.

"What?"

"I stopped by this morning," Gibbs said, a smile playing around his lips.

"What?" Tony squeaked. This could not be happening. "I was going to ask Abby," he said lamely, as his panicked mind tried to remember what could be lying around in plain sight. Abby wouldn't care, but Gibbs… "I wasn't expecting company," he said weakly, still not able to think clearly.

"Really?" Gibbs replied, still looking faintly amused.

"How did you get in?" Tony asked, as he tried to focus. Gibbs didn't say anything, just waved his lock picks in reply.

"Right…sure…Abby could have done that, Boss; you didn't have to go out of your way to…"

"Hey!" Abby thumped him in the arm.

"I just meant you know what I'd like to bring with me to Gibbs' house," Tony defended himself. "Injured man here, Abby. Play nice."

"I don't need you cluttering up my house, DiNozzo." Gibbs said.

"So no DVDs, no books, my TV?" Tony asked.

"You have a severe concussion, Agent DiNozzo. No reading or DVDs for the first few days," Dr. Weir reminded him.

"Maybe Bossman can read to you," Abby giggled.

"That will be fine, as long as you don't overdo it," the doctor replied, eliciting another laughing fit from Abby.

"Abby…" Tony groaned.

"Maybe we should give Anthony some privacy, my dear." Ducky told Abby. "I'm sure you can visit him tomorrow," he continued, looking to Gibbs for confirmation.

"Yeah, fine, but not for long. DiNozzo's resting, not entertaining," Gibbs replied, as Abby hugged him.

"Boss, I'm…" Tony began, but was silenced by a glare from Gibbs. "Yes, Boss. Resting, Boss."

An hour later Tony found himself studying Gibbs' den. It was just like the man who lived here. Practical and no nonsense. The room was light and airy, with a large window facing the garden. The walls were painted a dusky blue with a couple of built-in book cases at the far end. The bed was placed to one side, allowing more space to manoeuvre about in while on crutches. Tony glanced around, noting a couple of bags on a chair by the door, probably his clothes. There were even a few books and DVDs on the floor next to the chair, for when he was feeling better. Not that he planned on staying that long. He already had a plan. If he was playing by the rules for a couple of days, Gibbs might let him go home early. Tony eased himself down onto the bed, closing his eyes as he rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the pain.

"Headache?" Gibbs asked, standing in the doorway, a frown evident on his face.

"Yeah," Tony admitted, knowing there was little point in lying. Besides, he had to convince Gibbs he was capable of looking after himself.

Gibbs disappeared for a few seconds and returned with a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water. "It's no use, ya know," Gibbs said, as he shook out a couple of pills for Tony and handed him the glass.

"What?" Tony froze, hand halfway to his mouth.

"I know what you're thinking, DiNozzo," Gibbs continued, his face unreadable.

"I'm not…" Tony sat up, wondering where this was going. "What do you…" he began, not getting any further before Gibbs interrupted him.

"You're thinking that if you're a good boy and do as you're told for a few days; I'll let you go home by the weekend."

"How do you do that?" Tony sighed, sinking back into the pillows.

"I know you, DiNozzo. Better than you think," Gibbs said, motioning to Tony to take the Tylenol. He swallowed the pills quickly and handed Gibbs the empty glass. Watching his retreating back, Tony thought about what Gibbs had just said. 'I know you'. Closing his eyes against the late morning sun, he wondered what Gibbs would do if he knew the truth. How would he react if he knew his second in command was bi, and in love with him? Gibbs would understand why Tony hadn't told him he was into men; he was a very private man who didn't let many people in. The part about Tony being in love with Gibbs was worse. Much worse.

The sound of curtains being closed brought him back to the present. Tony opened his eyes to find Gibbs looking at him, an expression on his face he hadn't seen before. It was gone before he could decipher it.

"I'm going grocery shopping, Anything you want?" Gibbs asked.

"Jelly donuts?"

Gibbs just snorted and turned to leave. "Remember, DiNozzo, I *will* know what you've been up to."

"Yes, Boss," Tony answered, not really wanting to incur the Wrath of Gibbs on day one. His leg ached, and there wasn't really much else than rest he was up to, anyway.

His head started pounding in earnest again, as he considered what Gibbs might have seen in his apartment. He'd watched a movie from his hidden stash a couple of nights ago, jacking off to the sight and sound of a Gunnery Sergeant whipping Privates into shape, before fucking them senseless behind the barracks. He snorted, thinking the plot really was pretty lame. Still, the grey haired Gunny was close enough to Gibbs to act as a substitute. This was going to be hell. To be under Gibbs' roof, to have the man he was in love with care for him and not be able to show just how much he appreciated it, was just pure hell. Letting it all go, Tony tried to get comfortable, and slipped into a dreamless sleep a few minutes later.

Tony drifted slowly towards consciousness. A ray of light was streaming through a crack in the drawn curtains, illuminating a little table by the door. Its golden rays bounced off a few model boats and he admired the beauty in the elegant lines of a Viking longboat. He tried to remember if they were there the last time he'd stayed. This damn concussion was screwing with his memory. The headache had subsided to a dull ache at the back of his head. He became aware of someone else in the house. Gibbs had returned from his shopping and Tony could smell something delicious cooking. He wondered if he would be able to keep food down. He could still remember the way this morning's cereal had tasted like lumps of cardboard.

Tony remained where he was, listening to Gibbs pottering about in the kitchen. Tony snorted, who would have thought he would use 'Gibbs' and 'potter' in the same sentence? He suddenly felt alone and eased himself up, reaching for the crutches leaning against the chair by his bed. It would take a bit of practice to use them, with only one good hand. Still, he wasn't about to give up. The sooner he could get around on his own, the sooner he was safely ensconced in his own home.

Tony hobbled slowly into the kitchen, the aromas wafting through the house spurring him on.

"You hungry?" Gibbs asked, wiping his hands dry with a towel.

"I could eat," Tony replied, as he eased himself onto the closest chair. There was a footstool, too, and he realized Gibbs had put it there so he could rest his injured leg on it. "Thanks," he mumbled, touched by Gibbs' apparent attention. Gibbs just nodded. There was a basket of fresh rolls on the counter and butter and water had found its way to the table already. Gibbs placed a couple of plates by Tony and motioned for him to set the table.

The oven timer went off and Gibbs bent over, taking out the chicken. Tony had to avert his eyes. Gibbs was dressed in an old pair of jeans, worn soft through years of use. He was close enough that Tony could have reached out and run his hand across his ass. Clenching his hands in his lap, Tony forced himself to think of dull reports and McGee's latest online conquests.

A couple of minutes later as they were both eating, Tony found he was actually hungry. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall; 4 pm. He'd slept for a few hours then. They ate in silence; Tony didn't have the energy to master eating *and* conversation at this point. They had two weeks, he thought. Plenty of time to talk. Unless he got a "get out jail free" card. In that case, three days. Suddenly the prospect of a weekend alone didn't seem that appealing. It would pass, he told himself, it always did.

Gibbs glanced at his watch for the tenth time in the last half hour. He was still furious at Vance for having him come to the Navy Yard on his first day off. Granted, the information unearthed by Callen's LA team was interesting, but not urgent. Gibbs suspected Vance wanted to yank his chain, let him know who was boss, and normally he was willing to play this little game of theirs. But not today.

"DiNozzo's a grown man, Gibbs. I'm sure he'll manage a couple of hours on his own," Vance said, giving Gibbs a sardonic look.

"I'm not babysitting DiNozzo, Leon," Gibbs shot back, glaring at the director.

"Really?" Vance sounded doubtful. "You do this for all your agents, then, Jethro? Take them home and nurse them back to health?"

"You know I don't," Gibbs retorted, making a conscious effort to keep his temper under control.

"He took a hell of a beating yesterday, but he could have stayed in hospital for a couple more days," Vance went on. "I need you at NCIS, Agent Gibbs, not at home playing nurse to rogue agents."

"This was my fault," Gibbs ground out through clenched teeth. "I should have known something was up. I wasn't paying attention to the warning signs. I knew something was up with Tony and I let it slide. I failed as a team leader, Leon. Besides, I have plenty of time on the books; it's mine to use." His voice took on a hard edge.

Vance just shook his head and threw his hands up in defeat. "I see there's no use discussing this today," he said, before he turned around and walked towards the door. "I'll be in touch," he called over his shoulder, as he exited MTAC.

Gibbs drank the last of his coffee, grimacing as the cold drops attacked his taste buds. He ran down the stairs from MTAC, intending to get out of the office as soon as possible. Glancing towards the squad room, he saw that both Ziva and McGee were out. Good, he didn't want to waste any time getting home.

Rounding the stairwell, he became belatedly aware of a man waiting by the elevator.

"Jethro!" Ducky said, looking none too pleased to see him at the Yard. "I thought we'd discussed this already, you were not supposed to leave him alone!"

"I'm not!" Gibbs protested.

"He's waiting in the garage, then?" Ducky asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Gibbs glanced at his watch, knowing he'd been gone for over an hour. Tony could be awake again by now. "What?"

"I said…" Ducky began.

"I heard you the first time, Ducky. Of course I didn't bring him in. He's asleep, resting. And I need to get back."

Ducky watched his old friend leave, noting the tense set of Gibbs' shoulders and how tired he'd looked. The doctor sighed, picked up his briefcase and went down to the parking garage. He was supposed to stop by Gibbs' house in the morning, anyway, to check up on Tony.

As he was unlocking his Morgan, Abby came running, pigtails flying as she approached him.

"Is everything alright? I just saw Bossman leave, looking very pissed! I haven't seen him this angry since, well since Tony last screwed up," she smiled faintly. "What was he doing here, anyway? Shouldn't he be at home making sure Tony's not tripping over his crutches, or something?"

"He's not quite himself today, Abigail," Ducky sighed, as he put his coat and hat into the passenger seat of his car. "I'm afraid he's blaming himself for what happened to young Anthony. Jethro feels very strongly about this."

They both fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. "I'll see you tomorrow, my dear," Ducky eventually said, kissed Abby goodbye and drove off. She walked slowly to her car, contemplating what Ducky had revealed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

**Author's note: ****A big hug and thanks to**Silvertales for invaluable help; being a sounding board and beta, to AnnieB for the excellent beta and to Xanthe for keeping me sane ;)  


Gibbs' hands tightened around the steering wheel as he thought back to the moment in MTAC, when Vance had accused him of babysitting Tony. He still wasn't sure who the insult was directed against: himself or Tony. It didn't matter. Contrary to what Vance believed, Gibbs was not babysitting a 'rogue' agent. Right now he wasn't sure what made him angrier; Ducky's assumptions or Vance's games. He wondered if there would be repercussions for Tony for undertaking an unsanctioned op. "Hell, no, " he muttered. His team, his responsibility.

For the second time that week the surrounding traffic passed Gibbs by in a blur, as he made his way home. Tonight there wasn't the same sense of urgency, as he knew Tony was safe. Passing by a local bakery, Gibbs remembered Tony joking about jelly donuts. He made a quick stop on the way, unable to resist getting a box of Tony's favorites. He wouldn't be indulging him like this all week, but he felt Tony deserved a treat tonight.

A few minutes later, Gibbs turned into his own driveway. He was looking at the darkened house in front of him when it suddenly hit him; Tony was there, waiting for him. 'As he should be.' The thought came out of nowhere, and he frowned. Of course Tony was here, where else would he be in his condition? It wasn't like he'd get Abby or anyone else on the team to spring him. Not if they wanted to live. He remained in the car for a few moments, then grabbed the donuts and went inside.

The house was eerily quiet as he entered the hallway. Gibbs looked towards the living room, but no flickering lights filtered into the hall, so Tony wasn't disobeying that order at least. He suddenly remembered Tony's look when he'd walked in on him earlier. Maybe Tony really was trying to get home sooner. "No." Gibbs startled himself as he said that out loud. It was too soon, he needed to have him around just a little bit longer, to make sure he…. His train of thought trailed off, as he realized he wasn't quite sure why it was so imperative that Tony stayed. Keeping him out of trouble didn't quite cover it; neither did the wish to keep him safe. He shook it off and went in search of Tony.

Gibbs didn't have to go very far. The door to the den was ajar and he popped his head around the opening, trying to be quiet, not wanting to disturb Tony in case he was asleep. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the shadowed room, and he felt something unclench inside as he made out Tony's sleeping form on the bed. He was lying on his back, his leg propped up, snoring quietly with his head buried in the pillow. Tony's crutches had slid down to the floor, and Gibbs snuck inside quietly, leaned down to grab the crutches, then he suddenly felt very tired.

Sliding down onto the floor beside the bed, Gibbs leaned back against the bed and closed his eyes. He knew he should walk away before he woke Tony up, but right now he just had to rest for a little while. It had been a hell of a ride, and he needed the solitude to think it all through. Tony's even breathing calmed him, reminding him he hadn't lost him. Tony would be fine eventually.

He turned around, needing to reassure himself that Tony was really there. He looked at Tony's face, feeling the cold knot in the pit of his stomach slowly ease up. A small smile formed on Gibbs' face as he studied Tony's features. It would be a few days before Tony's bruises faded. Even in this dim light Gibbs could clearly make out the deep purple against his pale skin.

Gibbs took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes again. It felt so good just to be here, to let all the troubles of the past couple of days slide away. To just relax and let it all go. Vance and his fucking power games, Ducky's lack of trust…Gibbs put it out of his mind for now, content to be here, breathing in Tony's scent, listening to his even breathing. A few minutes later he was fast asleep, slumped against the bed.

"Gibbs." Someone was calling his name but he ignored it, wanting to rest a little while longer. "Come on, Boss, wake up, you'll hurt your neck sleeping like this." The voice was insistent now. A warm hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Hmm?" Gibbs mumbled, still not really awake. He straightened up, grimacing as his neck muscles protested loudly. Opening his eyes, he looked around, momentarily confused as to where he was. Gibbs turned around and found Tony looking at him intently.

"Hey." Tony's smile was open and carefree, an expression Gibbs hadn't seen in far too long and suddenly he realized how much he'd missed it. He just knew he had to make sure Tony didn't end up like this again.

"Why didn't you tell me, Tony?" The question slipped out before he could think it through. Gibbs mentally slapped himself; why the hell did he do this? Tony was barely out of hospital. "I'm not mad, Tony," he began, and then chuckled quietly when he saw the incredulous look on Tony's face. "Fine, I'm mad as hell, but mostly at myself. I should have picked up on this. I just need to understand why you didn't turn to me."

Tony's hand slipped off Gibbs' shoulder and his expression became blank and shuttered again.

"I couldn't let it go," he said, a faraway look in his eyes.

"That's not good enough, DiNozzo!" Gibbs exclaimed, wanting Tony to open up, to tell him why so he could understand, prevent this from happening again.

"Nothing's ever good enough," Tony yelled, startling Gibbs. He reached out, only to have Tony flinch away.

"Don't…" Gibbs trailed off, shocked that Tony obviously thought he was going to slap him. He put a tentative hand on Tony's forearm, his thumb caressing the taut muscles beneath it without conscious volition. Tony tensed up, but Gibbs could feel him slowly relaxing after a few moments.

"You do know I respect you as an agent, don't you, Tony?" There was no reply. Gibbs could feel Tony trying to pull his arm out of his grip and he tightened his hold.

"Let me go, Boss."

"Not until we've cleared this up," Gibbs protested, unwilling to let go of Tony just yet.

"I can't do this now," Tony said quietly. "I'm tired, Boss."

Gibbs faintly registered the sound of his front door opening and closing, but he couldn't drag his attention away from Tony's drawn features.

"Tony…"

"Leave me alone!" Tony exploded; his outburst halting Gibbs mid-sentence. His eyes flashed angrily as he yanked his arm free from Gibbs' hold.

"A word, Jethro, if I may," the quiet voice from the doorway effectively silenced both men. Ducky was standing inside the bedroom; his coat draped over his arm. "Now," he said, his tone of voice leaving no room for discussion. Gibbs recognized the uncompromising look on Ducky's face. Sighing, he got up, wincing as his knee protested after sitting on the floor for so long. Gibbs glanced back at Tony, but he was staring out the window, refusing to meet his eyes.

Ducky led the way through the living room and into the garden, where they would not be overheard. Gibbs braced himself. He could always count on Ducky to be frank, and most of the time he appreciated it, even relied on it. But this time, Gibbs didn't know if he had the patience to be admonished, especially if it was as longwinded a lecture as he feared it would be. Ducky closed the door behind him, remained with his back towards Gibbs for a few moments before he turned around.

Gibbs was surprised to see the expression on Ducky's face. His friend looked sad and worried, not angry as Gibbs had thought he'd be.

"Jethro, what just happened in there?"

The question took Gibbs by surprise; he'd expected to be yelled at, accused of endangering Tony's health, all of which he'd had to admit to.

"I wanted to know why he didn't talk to me, Ducky. I can't have anything like this happen again. He could have died today!" Gibbs exclaimed. Images of Tony lying so very still in the cemetery came flooding back and Gibbs had to sit down on the porch, as he tried to regain control. He breathed deeply, and became aware of a hand on his shoulder as Ducky sat beside him.

"You need to get your emotions under control, Jethro. If I find you two fighting again, I'll take charge of his recovery myself. He can't remain under your roof if you two keep falling out."

Gibbs rubbed his face wearily as he considered what Ducky was saying.

"I just need a good night's sleep, Ducky, that's all. I'll think more clearly in the morning."

Ducky patted him on the knee and got up. "You do that, Jethro. We'll talk again in the morning," he continued, grinning broadly as Gibbs groaned. Picking up his coat and hat, Ducky nodded goodbye to Gibbs and left him alone in the backyard. Gibbs could hear him exchange a few words with Tony before he left. A few moments later he could hear the car pull away. Gibbs remained where he was for a while, lost in thought. The shadows in the garden grew longer as the sun set. As darkness set in, he walked slowly back into the quiet house.

Ducky ran his hand along the back of the sleeping corgi curled up beside him on the couch. The dog snuffled in his sleep; its legs twitching before it settled down again. He reached for the glass sitting on the little table by his chair, twirling it slowly. The amber liquid swirled lazily around in the glass, the scent of smoke and peat reminding him of peaceful evenings in front of the fire, listening to his father tell stories from his youth.

Right now, though, tales from the Scottish countryside were not what was foremost in his mind. He'd seen Tony's infatuation with Gibbs grow almost from the time he was hired at NCIS. Ducky suspected Gibbs represented a lot of things for Tony, a stable force in his life, someone he could rely on. The team had grown to be more like a family to Tony, dysfunctional as it might be. Ducky also knew how much it pained Tony when he failed Gibbs, or felt he had. A man of few words, Gibbs didn't hand out praise lightly, least of all to Tony. Gibbs often spoke through actions, not words.

The corgi by his side woke up, stretched his legs and looked imploringly at Ducky. He lifted it down onto the floor and watched the dog patter towards the doors leading into the garden. Ducky put the half empty glass on the table and got up, pondering when Gibbs would realize what his behavior these past couple of days said about his feelings for Tony. An impatient bark interrupted his thoughts and he hurried over to let the dog out.


	6. Chapter 6

Abby dumped the contents of her bags unceremoniously out onto her kitchen counter. She studied the items before her, wondering if this really was such a brilliant idea. It beat the alternative though, doing nothing. It killed her when her friends were hurting, and both Tony and Gibbs were so much more than just friends. They were family. And families should be there for each other, right?

She glanced around her small kitchen, seeking out the far wall. She'd put up pictures there, of the people that mattered the most to her. The entire wall was painted a deep crimson and all the photos were black and white. Some were taken at the Yard; she had a candid shot of Gibbs there, looking intently at his screen. A few were taken at the annual garden party. Tony had his game face on, smiling and working the crowd. Abby got up and walked into the living room, pulling down a black lacquered box sitting on top of the bookshelves lining an entire wall. Sinking onto the floor, she opened it carefully and looked at the items inside.

A lace handkerchief was sitting on top. Abby picked it up. There was a lingering faint smell of roses, which reminded her of Kate. Her mother had given it to Abby after the funeral, saying Kate would have wanted her to have it. She still missed her, every day. It had taught her not to take anything for granted, and how important it was not to let life slip you by. She pulled out a photo of Tony, one she'd taken an afternoon by the Potomac a few years back. Gibbs had just returned from Mexico, and Tony was struggling to find his place within the team again. He looked so vulnerable, sitting there, his face open, his expression unguarded. Before she had had time to think it through, she'd snapped a shot of him. He hadn't noticed, just kept staring out over the water, deep in thought. She thought back to their conversation, still remembering his pain after all this time.

_"Come on, Tony, tell your troubles to Dear Abby," she joked. _

_"I'm fine, Abby, just feeling a bit bitter and blue," Tony replied. _

_"That sounds like a line," she giggled. "Which movie is that from?"_

_"Contrary to popular belief, Abby, I am capable of original thought." Abby could feel his hurt, it was radiating off him in angry waves. _

_"It was a joke, Tony!" she protested. "I only meant you keep quoting movies, Tony, that's all."_

_"Never mind…," he replied, his eyes firmly fixed on the river. _

_"Tony," she began, but was promptly interrupted. _

_"I'll just go for a walk," he said, "Be back in 20." _

With that he'd disappeared. He had returned to her on time, looking as happy and carefree as ever. Abby had still sensed his pain and had left him alone, thinking he would come to her when he was ready. There was more to this than feeling insulted over a little bit of teasing, she was sure of it. The problem was, he'd never approached her. Days became weeks, weeks months and their lives went on. That moment by the river a faint memory, one that was never revisited. What else had he been hiding under that carefree mask of his, she wondered.

It was getting late. Abby looked at the items strewn across her kitchen counter, contemplating which to choose. She'd found this great store in Chevy Chase that sold cool cookie cutters and it had the most amazing selection. Quickly, she decided against the ones she'd gotten online. Somehow she didn't think Gibbs was ready for Kama Sutra cookies just yet. Eyeing her old and tested bat shaped cutter, she shoved it aside and reached for her brand new bug shaped ones. Now, who could resist eating a dragonfly? Opening her recipe book, she decided she would stop by the boys with breakfast tomorrow.

Gibbs folded his shirt carefully together, resisting the urge to ball it up and fling it across the room. His hands reached for his belt, his movements measured and calm, in stark contrast to the turmoil he felt inside. Sliding the belt off, he placed it on the dresser by the door. He'd left the light off, wanting the peace and quiet darkness offered. The bedroom was cool and he could feel goose bumps rising on his naked skin as the wind drifted in through the partially closed curtains. Stepping out of his pants, he pulled on a clean t-shirt and went to bed. The sheets were cool to the touch, but they did little to soothe his mind. He turned over on his back and stared at the ceiling, willing sleep to come.

Gibbs thumped at his pillow, as he tried for the hundredth time to get comfortable. He'd been tossing and turning, rearranging his sheets every five minutes in a futile attempt to find rest. 2 am. The glowing red numbers on his alarm clock kept changing, even though he felt suspended in time. It had been hours since he'd returned from the garden. The door to the den had been closed, and Gibbs found himself unable to open it. This was only Tony's second night after his beating, and he'd already aggravated him once tonight. Ducky would have his hide if he did something like that again.

Flinging the covers aside, Gibbs got up, walked to the window and stood there, leaning against as he looked outside. The weather had worsened as the night had worn on. Rain was now pouring down relentlessly. The backyard was shrouded in darkness. As he started into the night, he could barely make out the shape of his shed. Two scenes kept playing in his head, over and over. Gibbs remembered the way Tony had looked at him, right before he blurted out that fucking question. Resting his forehead against the ice cold window pane, Gibbs tried to stay calm as his rage flared again. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered.

'Nothing's ever good enough!' Gibbs couldn't let Tony's pained outburst go. Little scenes from their years together popped up in his mind, and he now saw them in a new light. The crappy way he'd handled things when he came back from Mexico, basically just dumping Tony's stuff back at his desk, reclaiming his place as their boss without even as much as a cursory 'thank you' to Tony, who'd held the team together in his absence. Gibbs remembered the shrine Abby's made in her lab, plastering his picture everywhere. Had he really made Tony feel this worthless, that he had to solve crimes on his free time to prove his worth? He broke out in a cold sweat, realizing Tony could have died trying to prove himself to Gibbs, without him even knowing about it. He climbed back into bed, not bothering to pull the covers back up.

"There's still time," he said into the darkness. "I'll make this right, Tony." Vowing to keep that promise, he finally fell sleep.

Tony shifted around and beat his pillow into submission again. His mind refused to let go, and he couldn't relax, no matter how hard he tried to empty his mind. He'd had this thing for Gibbs for a while now - okay, pretty much since he'd started at NCIS - but he really thought he'd been doing a good job of keeping it hidden; Gibbs was his boss, and he also liked to believe they were friends and he didn't want to lose that by slipping up. It didn't make things easier that Gibbs was straight, but luckily he seemed to pay very little attention when it came to anything in Tony's personal life. It hadn't been easy over the years, watching Gibbs fall in love. Although in all honesty, he had no idea how much Gibbs actually dated. The amount of time Gibbs spent at the job and working on the boat didn't leave a lot of opportunities for meeting women. Not that Gibbs would have to work very hard at it. Tony had seen how women responded to him, smiling and flirting.

The constant presence of Jenny, the way she'd practically peed all around Gibbs, marking him as her own, as a cat would mark his territory, had at times been almost painful to watch. But, at least Tony had been relatively sure there was nothing going on, although she'd behaved as if she still had rights. And then Col. Mann had come along. For a while there he'd thought it could have gotten serious. It had cut Tony to the bone to see Gibbs with someone again, and then even have to deal with her at work. He had to admit to himself he had found it entertaining to watch Mann and Shepard battle it out around Gibbs, no matter how much it had hurt he was not the one Gibbs shared his evenings with. Every day Tony had sat in that squad room, wanting to shout "Look at me, I'm here." The office grapevine had been quiet as to why they'd broken up, but Col. Mann relocating to Hawaii didn't suggest it was an amicable split.

Tony glanced at his wrist watch. 3 am. He really should try to get some sleep. Normally, he did his best work at night, but that was before he'd gotten beaten to a pulp and run over. A dull pain behind his eyes had him reaching for the bottle of Tylenol by his bed, washing it down with the bottle of water he'd gotten earlier. He was thankful the den was next to the kitchen; it made getting around much easier. The pain slowly subsided, and he could at last feel sleep tugging at the corners of his mind.

The early morning light shone through the partially closed blinds, rousing Gibbs from his sleep. Tumbling out of bed, he walked over to the window to get some fresh air. A robin sat in the tree below his bedroom chirping merrily away, not a worry in the world. For a moment he felt almost envious, then he shook it off. He had more important things to do.

Gibbs turned his head towards the den, wondering if he was awake, and if Tony would even want his company right now. Deciding he needed to at least check on him, he walked over turning on a couple of lights as he went. It was still very early, and he didn't want Tony tripping, in case he couldn't see properly. He could hear Tony talking and wondered if maybe Abby'd come by without him noticing. Knocking softly, Gibbs waited until Tony'd answered before he walked inside.

Tony was sitting up, his leg resting on a footstool beside the bed. There was no one else there with him, and Gibbs saw that Tony was holding his cell phone. "OK, I'll see you soon, Abbs," he said, ending the call.

"Hey," Gibbs said, hovering in the doorway. "Sleep all right?"

"Not really," Tony yawned.

"You hungry?" Gibbs asked, noting the dark circles under Tony's eyes.

"Abby's coming over," he replied, "bringing breakfast."

"You wanna grab a shower before she arrives, freshen up a bit?"

Tony looked like he was about to protest, then he relented. "Yeah, a shower would be nice. I'm gonna need some help with the cast, though, something to cover it up." Gibbs felt relieved, at least they were still talking, and he'd asked for his help.

.

Together they made it upstairs to the bathroom, and Gibbs put a stool inside the shower. Tony leaned against the vanity, taking weight off his leg.

"You need to take off your clothes," Gibbs said, watching in amusement as Tony turned bright red. "You have showered before, DiNozzo, you are familiar with the concept?" Gibbs teased, he couldn't help himself.

"I…" Tony mumbled, fidgeting around a bit, before shoving his sweatpants down, leaning on the crutches as he tried to kick them off.

"Wait," Gibbs said, crouched down and helped him out of his pants. Tony was hot to the touch and he looked flushed. "You're not running a fever, are you?" he asked, glancing up. Tony held his gaze for a moment, before looking away again.

"I'm fine," he croaked. "I'll be ok now, boss. You don't have to stay."

"Don't be an idiot, DiNozzo. I've seen your sorry ass before, there's no need to be shy. I'm not taking you back to the ER because you slipped and fell in my shower. I'll never hear the end of it from Ducky, for one thing," he chuckled.

"You're gonna shower with me?" Tony said, sounding incredulous.

"I'll just help you out a bit, Tony. Come on, Abby'll be here soon." That seemed to get Tony moving, as he quickly pulled off his t-shirt and shoved his boxers down, kicking them off before Gibbs could help him. Gibbs stripped down to his shorts, and turned on the water. Gibbs worked quickly, covering up Tony's cast before they moved under the spray. Tony sat down on the stool, taking the weight off his foot. He looked thinner, Gibbs noticed, as his eyes swept over Tony's body. Gibbs handed Tony the shampoo before grabbing soap and a washcloth for himself. He gently cleaned Tony's back, mindful of the bruises blooming over his torso. A hiss escaped Tony as Gibbs ran the sudsy washcloth over his ribs.

"You sore?" Gibbs asked, gentling his touch. Tony just nodded, not saying anything. He seemed flushed again, and Gibbs was worried it wasn't just the warm water affecting his temperature. He quickly rinsed off the suds and stepped out of the shower, only to return with a large towel he wrapped around Tony. Turning his back, Gibbs stepped out of his wet underwear and shrugged into his bathrobe.

"You need to lie down?" he asked, as he helped Tony out of the shower. Tony just shook his head and propped himself up against the vanity again.

"I'm fine," he insisted, looking like he was about to fall over any minute.

"Right," Gibbs replied, shaking his head. He bent down and removed the plastic protecting Tony's cast. "Let's get you dressed, Abby will be here soon." Once again he found himself assessing Tony's body, noticing thing he hadn't, shouldn't, notice. Gibbs shook it off. Coffee, he thought. A big cup of coffee would help him think straight.

Abby helped Tony back into bed after breakfast. She'd brought fresh bagels and Tony's favorite, homemade strawberry jam. The meal had started out a little tense, and she wondered if anything had happened. In the end, the conversation had flowed easier and she had been able to relax, relieved to see them talking again. Now, Tony had that bleak look in his eyes again.

"What's up, Tony? Come on, talk to me! You're not still worried about Gibbs, are you? You know he'll fight to keep you on the team. Not that Vance would try and remove you, or anything," she added quickly, when she saw the look on Tony's face.

"Yeah?" Tony grimaced. He looked sad and tired. "I suppose it's not a big shock, really. I'm surprised I managed to stay on Gibbs' team this long before messing things up."

"Hey! Don't talk like that," Abby said.

"Why not?" Tony replied stubbornly. "It's the truth. I've tried, Abby, but I keep fucking up. The team - Gibbs - deserves someone… better." Tony sounded defeated. "Someone who isn't me."

"That's enough," Abby's voice cracked a little and she could feel her eyes welling up. There was just something so wrong with hearing Tony beating himself up like this. Tony was always larger than life - faults and all - but that was the real Tony; the one who goofed incessantly, but also the one who worked till three in the morning, to solve a case.

"Maybe I should do something else with my life, Abby, take a shot at a normal life. A family."

"Are you sure about that, Tony?" she asked, holding his hand gently. "Is your dream really the wife, two point five kids, and a white picket fence?"

"What, you think I'm so shallow I'd rather fuck around till I'm in my 50s?" Tony ground out, withdrawing his hand.

Abby bit her bottom lip, and glanced over to the door. It was ajar, and she could hear Gibbs cleaning up after breakfast. She was about to close it, when Gibbs popped his head around the door, shrugging into his jacket.

"I'll be right back," he said. "Need to have a word with Ducky. Can you stay for a while?" he asked Abby, who turned to look at him in dismay. "It's personal, Abby, not case related."

"Sure, I'll keep Batman company," she agreed. "My babies are running scans," she continued, "they won't be ready for another two hours. I do have to be back for that, though. Agent Lindstrom is waiting for the results." Gibbs checked his watch, nodded and was gone.

"Batman?" Tony asked.

"You know, savvy business man during the day, fighting crime at night…"

"I'd rather be Iron Man," Tony mumbled, looking like he was fighting to keep a smile off his face.

"Listen, Tony," Abby took his hand again. "I was not implying you weren't interested in having a meaningful relationship, or that you're incapable of it. I just didn't think you wanted the wife and the kids, that's all."

"Could we have this conversation at another time?" Tony sighed. "Like when I'm not, you know, recovering from a life-threatening injury?" he continued, managing to sound dramatic and defeated at once.

She studied his face for a while, and he met her gaze defiantly. There was no use trying to get him to talk about his feelings for Gibbs. She was certain he was deeply in love with their boss, and if she was right, Gibbs had feelings for Tony, too. If only he would stop long enough to realize it.

"Ok," she said, smiling softly. "But we will talk about it," she said firmly, squeezing his arm as she spoke. Tony rolled his eyes, and she could see he was already planning how to dodge that particular bullet. Poor Tony, he didn't know she already had a plan.

"I made cookies," Abby said, noting Tony's relief at the change of subject.

"My favorite?" Tony asked hopefully, looking so much like a little boy Abby couldn't resist giving him a kiss on the cheek. Abby popped out into the hallway, retrieving a bag she'd left on a small table by the door. She sat back down by his bed, handed him the small box, and watched as he opened the lid carefully. Hopefully, she would manage to surprise him this time.

"Dragonflies," he said, unable to keep a smile off his face. "You made dragonfly cookies?" Three perfectly decorated cookies were inside the box. "Only three?" he pouted. Abby laughed, "Don't worry; you can help me decorate the rest, that'll keep you out of trouble for a while."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: ****A big hug and thanks to TaylorGibbs for being a sounding board and an excellent beta :)**

"You see, Mr. Palmer, it is imperative that you learn how to... Oh, hello, Jethro! I didn't hear you come in." Ducky had a faint looking Palmer in a choking hold.

"I don't wanna know, Ducky," Gibbs said, shaking his head. "Palmer, could you leave us alone?" Palmer looked relieved, and scurried off as soon as Ducky released him. "Abby is staying with Tony," Gibbs added, before Ducky had a chance to comment on his presence at the Navy Yard.

"I did not for a minute think you were neglecting your duties, Jethro. Not after last night's conversation, if we can call it that." Ducky walked over to his desk and got two cups from a small shelf above his desk, then motioned for to Gibbs to come over. A few minutes later they were both nursing a hot cup of Darjeeling tea.

"I can't believe you have me drinking tea, Ducky," Gibbs grumbled, as he took another tentative sip of the offending beverage. He'd learned more about tea in the last five minutes than he'd ever wanted to.

"Change can be good, Jethro. There comes a time in our lives when we need to evaluate our ways and…"

"It's _tea,_ Ducky!" Gibbs interrupted. "You're not suggesting I learn how to get in touch with my inner self, are you?" Gibbs went on, rolling his eyes at his friend. Ducky smiled, looking like he knew something Gibbs didn't. "So, what's up, Ducky?"

"I seem to recall you came to me, Jethro," Ducky answered as he refilled his cup.

"Yeah, I did," Gibbs said, draining the last of his tea.

"And?" Ducky prompted, waiving him on.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Gibbs began, thinking back to the hours he'd spent tossing and turning as sleep eluded him. "I need to make this right, Ducky, but I don't know how. I'm not very good at this. What if I fuck up again and Tony leaves?" A shiver ran through him, and he could barely repress the surge of panic the thought of not having Tony on his team, in his life anymore caused.

Ducky was watching him intently. "You feel quite strongly about this, I see. You have lost team members before, Jethro. What makes Tony different from, say, Stan or Pacci?"

Images of Tony popped up in Gibbs' mind. That cocky smile the first time they met. The intent way in which Tony would process a crime scene, before he would goof off again. Even on the President's plane, he remembered with a smile, all those years ago. "You and Tony, on Air Force One," he explained, as he met Ducky's quizzical eyes.

"That was a long time ago, Jethro. And he's still on your team. With all that has happened, he's still right here," Ducky said quietly.

"On my six," Gibbs said, smiling fondly.

"On your six, Jethro. He's been there for you, no matter what." Ducky paused, gazing into the distance. "It's time for you to look at your relationship with Anthony in a new way. Don't be his boss, but connect with him as a person, not a team member or your second in command. And not as the Tony you've known for the last years, the one who makes inappropriate jokes and hides beneath all those well constructed defenses of his. Look beyond what you know, Jethro."

"I'm not good at this, Ducky," Gibbs sighed. "I'll probably put my foot in it and screw up."

"You didn't give up on Anthony the first time he screwed up, did you, Jethro?"

"No, but I knew he had so much potential, I'm not sure Tony sees that in me anymore."

"I think he sees your potential in a lot of areas, my dear friend. Now, I have unfinished business with Mr. Palmer. Off you go, Jethro. You have a wonderful opportunity to get to know Tony again, and maybe he will surprise you. I think you'll learn something about yourself, too."

"Whatever you say, Ducky," Gibbs relented, wanting to escape this particular line of conversation. He did not deal well with emotions. "I'm afraid I'll be back," Gibbs said, "needing a large shot of that 15 year old Glenfiddich you've hidden here somewhere."

"Ah! I take it you and Anthony haven't uncovered my latest hiding place, then? You are slipping, Jethro!" Ducky laughed and walked Gibbs to the door. "Don't think of this as an obstacle you have to traverse, think of it as a journey. One you and Tony are about to embark upon together, where you will find yourself…"

"Enough with the metaphors!" Gibbs groaned. He stopped by the elevator and waited for it to arrive. "Thanks, Ducky, I really appreciate it."

"Any time," Ducky assured him. As the elevator doors closed on Gibbs he could see Ducky hurrying down the hall, calling "Mr. Palmer? Mr. Palmer!" as he searched for his missing assistant.

Gibbs took a final detour, wanting to check in with his team before the weekend. He assumed Vance had assigned them to reviewing cold cases, as long as he and Tony were out of commission for the time being.

"Hold the elevator!" Ziva was staggering towards him, carrying a couple of boxes that were overflowing with files. "I'm heading down to Archives," she grimaced, nodding at her load. She put the boxes in the opening to the elevator, preventing it from going anywhere.

"You're not worried there are people waiting for that?" Gibbs couldn't resist saying.

Ziva snorted. "I've learned from the master," she said, cocking an eyebrow at Gibbs. He smiled, and then asked her what they were working on.

"We're looking into the Lincoln case from last year. Vance has assigned us a couple of probies from Cyber Crimes. There may be links to some new information coming in from Agent Callen's LA team. Vance said he had briefed you about it yesterday, yes?"

"He did," Gibbs nodded. Ziva seemed to hesitate, then she asked, "How's Tony doing?"

"He's doing better, Abby's with him now. She brought breakfast this morning."

"I see," Ziva replied. "And when can we see him?"

"I want to keep visitors at a minimum for a few days, Ziva. Tony's still in some pain, and he tires easily."

"I understand," Ziva said, her dark eyes unreadable. Gibbs suddenly remembered yelling at her at the hospital that first night. He knew Ziva cared about Tony, about the whole team. He guessed they were the closest thing she had to friends, although he had to admit, he hadn't given it much thought. "Listen, why don't you bring McGee and Abby for lunch on Sunday? That'll give us a few more days to recover and I'm sure Tony would like to see you all."

Ziva smiled, she probably recognized the olive branch waving in front of her face. It was as close as apologizing Gibbs was willing to go. She'd defied a direct order, and he had to trust his team did as they were told. He didn't mind they thought for themselves, but she had no business coming to the hospital and leave the booking to McGee.

Looking at Ziva, Gibbs knew she understood what he was thinking. She nodded briefly and walked into the elevator. Gibbs walked into the squad room and saw McGee hunched over his computer. There were two agents he didn't recognize in a heated argument, half of which Gibbs didn't follow. He got McGee's attention and walked over to the windows overlooking the Anacostia River.

McGee joined Gibbs moments later, carrying two cups of coffee. He offered one to Gibbs. "We had a coffee maker brought up from Cyber Crimes," he explained, when Gibbs looked at him questioningly. There hadn't been time for him to stop by the break room. "That way we can work through the night," McGee continued. "The newly recovered information concerning provided by Agent Callen is proving very useful in tracking the funds Lincoln was siphoning from the Navy. I, oh…yeah, how's Tony doing," McGee asked, as Gibbs remained silent.

"Are you enjoying terrorizing the minions, McGee?"

"Not at all, Boss. I just appreciate the opportunity to work with these guys again."

"You miss your time down there, Tim?" Gibbs asked, studying the other man.

"No. Well, not really. Maybe I'll go back someday, if the right opportunity comes along."

Gibbs lifted his cup, "To the future head of Cyber Crimes, eh?" McGee smiled and then repeated his earlier question. "How's Tony doing, Boss? Is he up for visitors yet?"

"He's doing better. Give us a couple of days, and come over on Sunday. For lunch. I'm having the whole team over."

Gibbs watched in amusement as McGee's eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair line; he was clearly not expecting this.

"Oh…sure…should we bring anything?" McGee asked after draining his cup of coffee.

"I think we've got it covered," Gibbs replied.

"Oh…yeah, sure, Boss!" McGee said. One of the agents from Cyber Crimes called out, and McGee excused himself. "Say hi to Tony for me." With that he was off, lost in a world of ones and zeros.

Looking at his retreating back, Gibbs realized how far McGee had come since his first years on the team. Gibbs shook his head, enough with the reminiscing. Too much time on his hands was turning him into a sentimental old fool. Checking his watch, he decided it was time to go home.

Taking the elevator down to the garage, Gibbs flipped open his phone and made a quick call to Abby, wanting to check up on Tony. She picked up right away, whispering as she answered his question.

"He's having a nap, Bossman. I think he's feeling a bit blue today." Gibbs could hear a door close and the sounds of a dog barking told him she'd gone outside, probably to be able to talk freely. "And he told me he's not sleeping that well, which I guess isn't unusual given the circumstances. You need to cheer him up, Gibbs. Give him some lovin', you hear?"

"Abby…," Gibbs replied, "I'm not gonna sit DiNozzo on my lap and sing lullabies!" The elevator reached the garage and he stepped outside, walking in the direction of his car. Abby mumbled something he couldn't quite get. "I'll do my best, Abby. No yelling, no slapping," he promised.

"And no spending every night in your basement, Boss. Tony needs to know he's not alone."

"I know, Abbs. I've invited the team over for Sunday lunch. I'm not sure who's more shocked, them or me." He held the phone away form his ear as Abby's delighted squeals threatened to pop his eardrums.

"I'll bring my famous mud cake and maybe pick up those donuts Tony likes so much; you know the ones with the raspberry filling and the sprinkles? Oh, maybe I should get some of that dark French roast coffee you love, the one Duckman gave you for your birthday last year, along with the rare bourbon? He still haven't told me where he got that. Ducky has contacts in the weirdest places, dontcha think?. It's that accent. Maybe I could learn to speak in that accent? Hmmm. How do you dooo?" Abby said, sounding like a cross between the British queen and a Muppet. "Would you like some tea and crumpets?"

"Abby…," Gibbs said.

"I most certainly dooo, my dear. I must say, Donald, these crumpets are the…"

"Abby." Gibbs tried to cut through her tirade again, but to no avail.

"…most delicious I've had…"

"ABBY!" he yelled, his impatience getting the better of him.

"Sorry, Boss," was the impish reply. "So…uh…mud cake, but no donuts?"

"Bring all ya want, Abby, but leave the queen at home, okay?"

"Yes, Boss. I'll come in early, help you cook," she offered.

"Abby, you _really_ don't have to," Gibbs replied, envisioning a Goth Energizer Bunny whizzing around in his small kitchen.

"Please, Gibbs, I want to do this for Tony. And for you. For you and Tony," she said, giggling manically. Gibbs lifted the phone away from his ear and stared at it. "How many CafPow's have you had today, Abby?"

"Only one after breakfast, on the way over. There's this great little shop right around the corner from where I live, and the owner, Cameron, has the cutest little cat. It's like a guard cat, watching the door. Every time I come by, it's like she has to look me over and grant me access. I stop by every day on my way into the Yard," she said.

"I bet you do…" Gibbs got into his car and said his goodbyes. He would just make one last stop on his way home, pick up something special for lunch and dinner. Tony probably wasn't up for something heavy like a steak dinner, but a nice pork chop would do. Gibbs found he was looking forward to the days ahead. It had been a long time since he'd spent a weekend with someone. He hadn't forgotten Ducky's words, to get to know Tony on a personal level. Yeah, he could do this….he was a god damn Marine, for crying out loud. Hell, nothing was scarier than a Ducky in full pissed-off mode… Two weeks with Tony would be a breeze in comparison.

Gibbs pulled out of the Yard and headed north. A weekend off, in Tony's company. His stomach did a little flip and he rubbed it absentmindedly, wondering whether Ducky's tea wasn't agreeing with him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: **I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. Illness in the family has taken a lot out of me lately. I hope you enjoy the chapter ** Hilde **

Tony watched dust motes dancing around in the air, as the sun filtered through a crack in the shades. Faint music from the living room got his attention. Jazz. Gibbs was playing one of his favorite jazz bands. Apparently, he'd grabbed more than books and DVDs on his rummage through Tony's apartment. Tony felt oddly touched. It was clear Gibbs wanted him to feel comfortable, welcomed into his home. He could hear Gibbs move around, cutlery rattling as drawers opened. Glancing at his wristwatch he noticed it was past noon and he suddenly felt hungry. The headache form earlier was gone. Abby's insistence on two Advil and a nap had made him feel a lot better. Grabbing the crutches by the bed, he got up gingerly, grimacing as a hundred aches and pains made themselves noticed. Another couple of days and the soreness should be gone.

Today was Friday, Tony realized, as he waited through a brief moment of dizziness. He'd thought about going home tomorrow, but found he couldn't. His initial urge to flee had been replaced by a yearning to stay. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this raw. Over the years he'd settled in, learning to bury his insecurities. Then he'd been sent away, and things hadn't been quite right ever since. Tony straightened up. Enough. No more of what had been or what could have been. It was time to look forward. What had happened couldn't be changed. He had regrets, but so did everyone.

The dizziness finally subsided and he walked slowly into the hallway. He was getting the hang of this now. Luckily, he still had a reasonably good grip with his injured hand, and he could move around a little more. He still hurt, all over, but physical pain was something he could deal with. He hobbled into the kitchen in search of Gibbs. A plate of cold cuts and various pickles and bagels were spread out before him.

"Are we expecting company?" Tony asked, as he looked at the feast.

"Nope," Gibbs answered as he put a large glass of orange juice in front of him. "Drink up, it's good for ya."

"Oh, okay." Tony obliged and drank half the glass. He put the glass back on the table and sat down, resting his foot on the stool Gibbs pulled over. "So, what did you do when I was gone?" Gibbs asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Tony snorted. "Abby had me decorating dragonfly cookies. There should be a box of them around here somewhere. You?"

"I had tea with Ducky," Gibbs sighed. "It came with a free lecture," he continued, grimacing a bit. Tony laughed, he couldn't help himself.

"Don't," Gibbs warned, but without his usual bite. He looked relaxed, Tony realized. Maybe a few days off were doing him good. Tony's stomach rumbled, and he reached for a bagel. They ate in companionable silence, like they used to. They didn't need to talk much, which was fine by Tony. This was one of the things he'd enjoyed most when he'd stayed with Gibbs in the past. Sharing a simple meal together, just he and Gibbs. Time alone with Gibbs was to be cherished. They didn't pair up as often as before anymore, and he found he missed it.

"I invited the team over for Sunday lunch." Gibbs poured himself another cup of coffee. Tony was momentarily too stunned to reply. "You what? Oh, okay. Uhm…why?"

"McGee and Ziva wanted to see you," Gibbs replied. "We need to eat. It seemed practical."

"Right. And who's cooking?"

"I can cook," Gibbs replied, cocking an eyebrow at Tony.

"Besides cowboy steaks?" Tony asked. .

"I've been married a few times, Tony. I've made my share of Sunday lunches."

Tony's good mood evaporated. As much as he was enjoying his time in Gibbs' company, he was reminded that this was temporary. Gibbs would never think of him as anything else than a team member.

"You okay?" Tony looked up and met Gibbs' concerned face.

"Yeah, just sore, that's all. I'm thinking a hot shower before bed will do me good," Tony said, then blushed as he remembered the last shower he'd had. He quickly took another gulp of orange juice as he forced his mind away from being naked with Gibbs. A nearly naked Gibbs. He'd tried not to ogle the other man, but soaking wet boxers weren't capable of hiding much. And definitely not Gibbs' cock. Tony suddenly became aware of the fact that he was wearing lose fitting boxers and thin sweat pants. Fuck. He couldn't lust after Gibbs, sitting at the man's kitchen table. If he got hard… Tony shook his head. There was no way in hell he could hide that, not dressed like this. He grabbed another bagel and sliced it in two. Mayo, lettuce, ham, pickles, smoked turkey, pastrami, salami and tomatoes found its way onto a half. A hand grabbed his wrist. "You with me, Tony?"

"Huh?"

"That's a big boy sandwich you're making," Gibbs said, smirking as he nodded at the bagel on Tony's plate. Tony looked at it, suddenly noticing the growing pile of meat. "I think I zonked out for a minute," he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"You look flushed," Gibbs said, frowning as he looked at Tony more closely. He reached over the table and put his hand on Tony's forehead, checking his temperature. "Not too hot," he said, his expression clearing up.

"I'm fine," Tony assured him before he taking a bite out of his bagel. "Nice," he said, smiling broadly as the flavors burst in his mouth. Gibbs just smiled and shook his head. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, which Tony found strangely soothing. It was relaxing to be with someone you didn't have to talk to all the time, someone you could just be at ease with.

After lunch Tony watched as Gibbs cleaned up the kitchen with his usual efficiency. "You wanna nap?" Gibbs asked, glancing over his shoulder as he put the dirty plates in the dishwasher.

"No, not really. I'll just listen to some music for a while. Didn't know you liked jazz, Boss," Tony said as he reached for his crutches. He almost had them when they slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Gibbs was by his side in an instant, snatching up the crutches and helping Tony up off of the chair. "Thanks, Boss," he mumbled, not able to look at Gibbs. "I'll be fine," Tony said quietly. "I'll just relax, listen to some music."

Tony walked slowly into the living room and eased down on the couch with a sigh of relief. There was an ottoman in front of the couch and he rested his injured leg, ignoring the faint throbbing. Gibbs' stereo wasn't up to Tony's usual standard, but right now that didn't matter at all. He grabbed a throw pillow and shoved it behind his neck. He found himself dozing off. The couch dipped as someone sat down beside him. The faint smell of coffee was reassuring and Tony drifted off to sleep.

Gibbs slipped on his reading glasses and opened a book he'd picked up a while ago but never gotten around to reading. He enjoyed James Rollins' Sigma Force novels. Glancing at the blurb at the back of The Judas Strain, his stomach clenched as he had a flashback to Tony fighting for his life after a being infected with a deadly disease. He closed his eyes for a moment, just listening to Tony's steady breathing. There had been too many close calls, too many. He shook it off, refusing to dwell on what could have happened. Tony was here, safe, that was all that mattered.

He didn't notice it at first. Engrossed in his novel, he didn't pay much attention to the world around him. Tony had slipped sideways and was now leaning towards him, head nearly on his shoulder. It looked uncomfortable and Gibbs debated whether to wake him up, have him lie down on the couch. In the end, Tony's peaceful expression dissuaded him from trying. He'd only wake Tony up and he needed his rest. He reached for a throw pillow by his side and put it against his shoulder as he moved a bit closer. Tony was leaning against him now, supported by Gibbs. Content, he returned to Commander Pierce and the latest adventures of the Sigma Force.

Ducky opened his front door to find Abby waiting outside. "Abigail! This is a most wonderful surprise!" he exclaimed. "Do come in." The chill of the night made him shiver and he closed the door quickly behind her as soon as she stepped into the well lit hallway.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight, Abby," Ducky said as he took her coat. She had on a deep purple dress, with a tightly fitted bodice and a knee-length billowing skirt. Ducky thought she looked divine. Her raven hair was framing her face in soft waves, held back on one side with a silver barrette shaped like a butterfly.

"Aw, thanks, Ducky! You're such a gentleman." Abby smiled and kissed him lightly on his cheek.

"Is there a nice young man waiting for you tonight?" Ducky asked as he showed her into his library. There was a fire roaring and the corgis were dozing in front of it. As soon as they entered, the dogs scrambled to their feet, yapping away excitedly, clearly delighted to see her. Most creatures liked Abby, and his dogs were no exception. She had bent down to scratch Fergus behind his ears, and he was leaning against her leg, clearly enjoying every moment of her attention.

"Hmm?" Abby glanced up at him. "Oh, the dress. No, no gentleman caller for me, just wanted to look nice, Ducky."

"Indeed you do." Ducky beamed at her. "Please, sit down, my dear. Can I get you anything? A nice cup of tea, perhaps. I found this wonderful tea I've not tasted before; Honeybush Vanilla. It's decaf, perfect for my evening tea. If only I could get Jethro to drink less of that coffee and more tea. I do worry about his health. All that black coffee is not good for him. But I guess it's what keeps him going through all those long evenings at the office." Ducky sighed, and joined Abby in front of the fire.

"Tea sounds lovely, thank you," Abby replied, and patted him on the knee. "The bossman will be fine, don't you worry, Ducky." He squeezed the hand resting on his knee, then got up. "'I'll be right back, my dear." As he walked out of the room, he turned around to see Fergus placing his head on Abby's feet and looking at her pleadingly. "You look just like Tony," Abby murmured, "waiting to be cuddled by Gibbs." The dog just snuffled and rolled over, offering his tummy to be scratched. "Just like Tony," she said, smiling fondly. Well, that probably explained why she was here, he thought. As much as he loved Abby, she could be a bit….intense….at times. He hoped she wasn't going to push too hard at trying to get Gibbs and Tony together. Her heart was in the right place, she just didn't always have the time to let things flow naturally, at their own pace.

A few minutes later, Ducky returned, carrying a tray of delicate cups, a large pot of tea and a plate of his finest shortbread biscuits. She was still cuddling the dog. Fergus whimpered as she straightened back up, already missing the attention she'd lavished upon him. Ducky handed her a steaming cup of tea and watched as she savored the aromas slowly filling the room.

"So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Ducky asked, as he tasted the brew himself.

"I'm here about Operation Love Boat," she announced with a flourish of her hands.

"Pardon me? Operation Love Boat?" Ducky had decided years ago that Abby's mind was a wondrous place. The ways in which it worked were never straightforward, and rarely made sense to a bystander.

"Yeah, it's a bit lame, I know. I was thinking about Gibbs and his boat and Tony and his endless movie and TV references. I've only had a few hours to plan this, Ducky!" Abby said defiantly.

"And what exactly does Operation Love Boat entail?"

"We are going to make Tony and the Bossman see sense! They are totally in love with each other and should be together." Abby looked at Ducky, chin held high.

"Ah, I see. And why do you think either Gibbs or Tony would welcome this interference in their private affairs?" Ducky enquired.

"Well, when they're being so stubborn about it, they're just gonna have to!" Abby said, slumping slightly in her chair.

"You do realize Jethro guards his privacy fiercely," Ducky replied. "I'm not sure…"

"Yes, yes, I know that," Abby interjected, waving her hand dismissively. She had another sip of her tea, her face taking on a dreamy expression.

"How can you be so sure they would welcome this?" Ducky continued. "We do know they are close, and care for each other, but in love…?" He looked at her speculatively. Her eyes narrowed and she put down her cup.

"What do you know?" Abby asked, leaning towards him.

"What do _you _know?" Ducky replied, sitting back in his chair. He was not about to give anything away. He was reasonably sure Gibbs was in love with Tony. His reaction to the recent events went far beyond that of a concerned team leader. However, Gibbs was also an honorable man, a man who took his duty very seriously. Ducky knew Gibbs and Jenny had been involved at one time, and he also knew that relationship was the reason behind rule number 12. Then there was NCIS anti-fraternization regulations. He shook his head. Would Gibbs be willing to throw it all aside to be with Tony? Maybe he would retire, or maybe Tony would transfer to another team.

"Ducky? What are you mumbling about?" Abby looked at him curiously and her eyes were filled with mirth.

"I was just thinking, out loud apparently," he said, smiling fondly at her.

"I…," Abby began, then stopped, sitting back in her chair again. "Has Gibbs talked to you?" she asked, looking at him intently.

"Has Tony said anything to you?" Ducky countered. He glanced down at the dogs and noticed they were all sitting up, watching them both closely. Not a word was uttered.

The standoff continued for a couple of minutes, then Abby broke down. "Oh, fine," she huffed. "I don't _know_ know. I just know! It's the little things. The way Tony craves Gibbs' attention, the fact that he has stayed for 8 years! The way his eyes light up every time he looks at the boss, especially when he thinks no one is looking. But I notice," she said, tapping a finger at her nose. "And Gibbs is so fond of him. Tony makes him smile. He was so miserable when Tony was away. Do you remember the case Tony caught as Agent Afloat? The one with the sailor they thought had jumped overboard?"

Ducky nodded. He did remember that case; it was the one that brought Tony home. And he recalled the way Gibbs had looked when Tony was back on the team. At peace, happy. He dimly registered Abby's voice and focused on what she was saying again.

"…some pictures of her in a bikini. But, and this is my point, Ziva told me Tony barely acknowledged her when they first met up with Tony, at some bar. He had only eyes for Gibbs. She was a bit offended, actually. She did miss him, too, you know."

"Tony has a way of endearing himself to the ones close to him, even if he may exasperate them at times, too," Ducky said, smiling as he remembered some of Tony's antics through the years.

They sat there drinking their tea in silence for a while, each lost in memories of years gone by.

"Abby," Ducky said as he reached a decision. Although Gibbs had opened up a bit lately, such as reconnecting with his dad, he still kept most people at arms length. They needed to be very careful about this. Not meddle, as much as maybe nudge a little.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Even if we're right, there's no way of knowing what will happen if we try to force this. We must let this run its natural course." He held up his hand when Abby looked like she would protest. "However, there is no reason why we shouldn't nudge them along a little, help them realize how they feel."

"Tony knows how he feels. I just have to make him admit it, say it out loud." Abby said. "I tried talking to him about it today, but he shut down on me. I don't think he suspects I know he's bisexual, either. I guess it becomes second nature to keep that side of you private, when you're working in law enforcement." They sat in silence for a while, as Ducky thought about the unfairness of it all, having to watch your every move, trying not to give anything away.

"I've already told Jethro to get to know Tony anew, to open his mind a bit. They do have two weeks together, you know. It might be just what the doctor ordered," Ducky said.

"Ducky, I do believe a toast is called for," Abby said, raising her tea cup.

"In that case, my dear Abigail, I think a proper drink is in order."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_"Get up, you little shit!" _

_Tony tried to move, but he couldn't get his body to obey. Someone was holding him down, not letting go. _

_"Bones__, enough," a gruff voice ordered. _

_A moment later he was hauled to hi__s feet and pushed into a chair, his hands cuffed behind his back. A bright flash caught his eye, and he watched in horror as a man wielding a long-bladed knife came closer, a menacing smile twisting his crooked mouth. _

_"We want Agent Gibbs," he said. "You're gonna call him right now and get him down here." _

_Tony__ groaned as the one called Bones removed the cuffs. Pain shot through his cramping shoulders and he moved them around a little, trying to alleviate the throbbing. Gibbs? They wanted Gibbs? He couldn't. He had to keep Gibbs safe, no matter what. An impotent rage welled up inside him. _

_"No," Tony yelled. "I won't. I'd rather die before I call Gibbs."_

_A moment later he __found himself lying stretched out on a wooden table, his arms tied over his head. His father came into his field of vision, looking annoyed. "Why can't you ever do what's expected of you, Tony. You're such a disappointment to me and your mother. A glorified cop, that's all you are. You think that badge will make people respect you? That's not the measure of a man. What have you ever amounted to? No wife, no family." His father disappeared, only to be replaced by the man with the knife again. _

_"Who are you? What do you want?" Tony cried out in pain as the unknown man cut him across his chest. Blood trickled slowly down his side and he was suddenly lying in a hospital bed, his hands in restraints. A bright light flashed in the room and a man dressed in a silvery uniform appeared by his side. _

_"I'm Commander Tomalak of the Romulan vessel Valdore," he announced. "Gibbs is to stand before the High Council, to answer for his crimes against the Romulan Praetor Colious." _

_"What? No, this is not making any sense! Gibbs would never…" Tony closed his eyes for a moment, needing to clear his head. Think, DiNozzo. What would Gibbs do? He was jolted out of his thoughts by a cool cloth on his forehead. Thomas Magnum was leaning against the bed, wringing out a washcloth as he studied their surroundings. _

_"What's your ingenious plan, Tony? How're you gonna save Gibbs, huh? Should I call TC, see if he can fly us out of here?"_

_"Unbuckle me__ now, before they return!" Tony ordered, struggling to get free. The restraints fell away and he swung his legs off the table. _

_"__Not so fast, Agent DiNozzo." Tony whirled around. There was a man sitting in a chair by the window, his face shrouded in the shadows. A white cat was sleeping in his lap and he stroked its fur absently._

_"Gibbs is still alive and Domino is not yet in our possession. I've negotiated with the Romulans for its return, settled a price and S.P.E.C.T.R.E _always_ delivers what it promises. The survival of our organization depends on us delivering." He paused as the cat stretched leisurely and jumped down on the floor. _

_"You can't have Gibbs__!" Tony screamed. _

_"Is that so__, Agent DiNozzo. Two minutes. You either give us Gibbs or you will die."_

_"Kill me now, then," Tony said intently, "I'll NEVER betray Gibbs."_

_"Really? What do you call me then?" Jeanne stepped into the room, holding the white cat in her arms. "I will have my revenge, Tony. Your punishment will be living out the rest of your life, knowing you failed Gibbs, sent him to his death. The only person you've ever loved will be dead, Tony, by your hand."_

_A door opened and two men walked in, dragging a man between them. Tony couldn't see his face, but that didn't matter. Gibbs. They had Gibbs. The front of his shirt was covered in blood and his left leg was hanging at an awkward angle. They stopped in front of Tony and Jeanne grabbed Gibbs' hair, pulling back his head. A gun had appeared in her hand, pointed at Gibbs. _

_"Who's gonna save you now, Tony?" Jeanne asked before pulling the trigger. A warm spray of blood hit his face and he could feel his knees buckling. _

_"No!" he wailed, before everything went dark. _

A pained whimper roused Gibbs from his light slumber. His back objected loudly as he straightened in his seat, trying to wake up without jostling Tony too much. He'd slumped against Gibbs in his sleep, and was plastered up against his left side. Tony had a pained expression on his face, and he was moving about restlessly, mumbling in his sleep.

"You can't have Gibbs!" Tony suddenly cried out, his hand gripping Gibbs' thigh, digging in. Tony was clearly having a nightmare, one involving him by the sounds of it.

"Tony, it's ok. It's only a dream, you're safe. We're all safe," Gibbs said calmly, leaning in close. He reached out and stroked Tony's arm soothingly.

Tony stopped thrashing around for a few moments, his hold on Gibbs letting up slightly. He looked confused and scared, making Gibbs wonder if Tony was dreaming about his beating. Things had gone smoothly after the attack, too smoothly. He should have made Tony talk about it; instead he'd wasted his chance, attacking Tony when he should have been supporting him. Tony tensed up again, a look of abject horror on his face.

"No!" he screamed, sitting up abruptly. His eyes were wild as they scanned the room. Tony became aware of Gibbs and a look of relief flitted across his face. He reached out, cupped his hand around Gibbs' neck and drew him close. For a dizzying moment Gibbs thought Tony was going to kiss him, but instead he just leaned in, resting his forehead against Gibbs' and held still. Gibbs felt relief and an unexpected sense of disappointment.

"I thought I'd lost you," Tony whispered. Gibbs could feel him tremble, shivers running through his body. He felt cold and clammy, and Gibbs tried to pull away to find a blanket for Tony.

"Lie back, I'll get you a blanket."

Tony tightened his grip on Gibbs, took a couple of shaky breaths and finally released him. When Gibbs returned with an afghan, he seemed to have regained some of his composure.

"I'm sorry; Boss. That was stupid of me, reacting like that. It just felt so real, even though it made no sense at all."

"Don't apologise, Gibbs said firmly, "I've had my share of nightmares, Tony; I know what it's like." He carefully draped the blanket around Tony, making sure not to hurt his leg.

"I'll never watch another movie again," Tony said wryly.

"Why?" Gibbs asked, wondering where that came from.

"My nightmare," Tony answered. "An impressive parade of movie villains, with an added dash of personal failures and you, the one they all wanted."

"Me? Who did I piss off?" Gibbs said, smiling as he sat back down.

"I'm not sure, something about the Romulans."

"Who?" The name meant nothing to Gibbs.

"Star Trek, a sci fi series," Tony explained.

"Ah," Gibbs replied, not really any wiser. "Want something to drink?"

"Beer?" Tony said hopefully, smiling innocently at Gibbs.

Gibbs laughed out loud. "You think that smile's gonna work on me?"

"Fine, a Coke, then," Tony replied, sounding none too happy about it.

Gibbs smiled fondly and walked into the kitchen. Spotting his cell phone on the kitchen counter, he glanced at the time. Ducky would be home and enjoying a whiskey by the fire by now. He just needed to a quick word about Tony's dream.

Ducky offered his reassurances and after getting a promise of a house call the following morning, Gibbs grabbed a Coke for Tony and more coffee for himself before returning to the living room. He made a beeline for the stereo, where he searched through the stack of CDs he'd picked up at Tony's apartment, found one he recognized and put it on.

"Johnny Cash? You like his music, Boss?"

"We're off the clock now, Tony, you can call me Jethro." Tony glanced at him, then just smiled and closed his eyes, looking more relaxed than Gibbs had seen him for a long time. Gibbs hadn't meant to say anything, but suddenly it felt important to let Tony know they weren't just boss and second in command here. They were…..Gibbs paused as he thought about their relationship. He remembered what Ducky had said, that he should look anew on his relationship with Tony, get to know him on a different level. He didn't exactly know what Tony meant to him, but he had to admit that his reaction when Tony had been injured suggested he had grown close to him. He wasn't ready to examine just how close he felt to Tony. Gibbs relaxed back into the couch, allowing the music to wash over him.

They sat quietly, not needing to talk or even think much. Gibbs found himself in the mellow, easy mood he often seemed to be in when alone with Tony. It was effortless and comfortable.

A few hours later he helped Tony to bed, making sure he had all he needed for the night. After placing a glass of water and the painkillers within easy reach, Gibbs placed an extra pillow behind Tony's head. He glanced up at Gibbs and smiled, as if Tony couldn't quite believe Gibbs cared this much.

The open, happy smile struck a cord in Gibbs, one long buried, forgotten during years in the service. It shot right through his defenses, struck him hard and unexpected, a once silent need flaring brightly deep within.

He couldn't do this. He could not be falling for Tony. There was no way. Gibbs nodded goodnight and made his way upstairs. As soon as he walked into his bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes, throwing them in the hamper as he undressed. Stepping into the shower, he turned on the water, adjusting the temperature to his liking. Bracing his arms against the wall he let the water pummel down on his back, feeling his muscles slowly relax. He refused to think about his, well, Ducky would probably refer to it as an epiphany, while Abby would probably squeal a lot, before going "aaaaw!"

He grabbed a bar of soap and started washing efficiently, as he always did. As he slid his hands across his chest his mind filled with the image of Tony, sitting naked in his shower, water rivuleting down his back, almost caressing his body as it made its way down to his ass. Remembering how that firm ass had looked as Tony stepped into the shower made his dick twitch and it filled out and lengthened.

"Traitor," he mumbled, as he looked down at his semi erect dick.

Unable to resist any longer, Gibbs filled his right hand with liquid soap and reached down to drag his slick fist slowly down the hardening length of his erection. He moaned quietly as he allowed himself to give in to the needs of his body and the images in his mind. Gibbs felt his cock pulse in his grip and a little spurt of pre-come oozed out of the tip as he remembered what it felt like to let his hands slide over Tony's body. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the shower wall, wondering what it would feel like to hold Tony close, to feel a warm body against his own, to kiss those full lips, hear Tony moan against his mouth as they moved against each other.

Gibbs' hand was moving constantly over his cock now – jacking himself almost desperately as the fantasy seeped into the present, becoming something he yearned, something that was within his reach. Gibbs could see Tony clearly now in his mind's eye. Stripped of his clothes, smiling mischievously at Gibbs, the thought made Gibbs tighten the grip on his cock as he pictured a chest with strong muscles and whorls/twirls of dark hair. Gibbs brought up his free hand to trail it over his own chest. He teased his right nipple first, twisting it lightly with his fingers before dragging his nails over the nub. Moaning quietly, he moved over and treated his other nipple to the same procedure, his hips jerking forward into his fist as a jolt of pure pleasure shot from his nipples straight down to his cock. In his mind, the hands on his body were Tony's, wanting him, needing him as much as he needed Tony right now.

Gibbs let his head rest against the cool tiles of the shower as pleasure continued to mount. He could feel the burning coil of ecstasy curling tighter and tighter with each stroke. His hand slid over the throbbing shaft, gripping tightly, twisting on each down stroke and smearing his length with the pre-come which was seeping copiously from the head of his cock. Gibbs reached down, rolling his balls in his hand as he slowed things down. He wanted this to last; it had been too long since he'd done this, focusing on his body's needs instead of his work. Gibbs was just stroking himself lazily now, focusing on the sensations cursing/rushing through his body. If he was going to let himself indulge in a fantasy about Tony, he was at least going to make absolutely sure he could enjoy it as long as possible.

Dropping his head and letting his eyes drift closed once more, images of Tony began to dance through his mind. Tony sprawled out on his bed, naked and wanton, legs wide as he jacked his cock, watching Gibbs trough dark lashes. Tony on his hands and knees, his head resting on his arms, his hard dick bobbing as he spread his legs, getting ready for Gibbs to sink inside him.

At the thought of fucking Tony, Gibbs was panting hard, teetering on the brink of his orgasm, trying his best to hold on and prolong his pleasure for a few more moments. He tightened his fist, his hand jerking down fast and hard. In his mind it was Tony touching him, Tony's labored breathing and moans. His body clenched hard one final time and he shot all over the shower wall, gasping and groaning as everything went white and his knees gave out.

Gibbs slid down to the floor, shuddering in the aftermath of his orgasm. He let his head hang down as he focused on getting his breathing back under control. A few moments later he got up, grimacing as his knee protested loudly, before turning off the now lukewarm water. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and quickly dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Gibbs wiped his hand across the steamed up mirror and was faced by his reflection. His face was flushed and his eyes dark from his recent orgasm, but he now felt conflicted as the rush of endorphins gradually receded. Gazing at his own reflection for a while longer, he slowly came to the conclusion that this was futile. Tony would never go for someone like Gibbs. He realized he had absolutely no idea if Tony even found men attractive. He knew Tony sometimes flirted with him, but flirting to Tony was like breathing, second nature done without conscious thought.

Sighing deeply, Gibbs looked at himself one last time before reaching back and slapping himself firmly at the back of his head.

"Idiot," he cursed, firmly putting Tony out of his mind.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Gibbs woke up as the first rays of light colored the sky in hues of blue. He stayed in bed and watched as the light in his room changed from darkness to a dusky grey, muting the colors of his bedspread. The curtains had not been closed last night. He'd basically collapsed onto his bed, wrung out from his orgasm and the emotional turmoil his revelation had left him in. He kicked aside the comforter, needing to cool down. He grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and propped it behind his head. Finally comfortable, he wondered if Tony was still asleep. Not a sound reached him from downstairs as he turned towards the door leading into the hallway. The house was eerily silent, only an occasional faint creak as the wind blew through the trees in his backyard.

The night had passed quietly. He'd ventured downstairs a couple of times, checking if Tony had another nightmare, but had found him sound asleep both times. Turing onto his back, Gibbs examined the ceiling as he let his mind wander. A hand slipped under his t-shirt and he stroked his stomach absentmindedly while he thought about the night before. It had been so long since a man had caught his interest. This thing he had for Tony had crept up on him, the depth of his emotions unnoticed until he'd nearly lost him. He suppressed a sudden urge to walk downstairs again, to make sure Tony was still breathing.

The need for coffee finally drove him out of bed. He took a quick shower, not bothering to shave. A sudden flashback to water cascading down Tony's back had him adjusting the temperature. He forced himself to stay under the freezing water for a full minute before turning it off.

"Get a grip, you idiot. You're not 16…you can control this!"

Gibbs dried off quickly, hanging his towel to dry on the rack when he was done. Walking back to the bedroom, he mentally checked off the things he had to get done this morning. The house looked fine, his cleaner had been in earlier in the week, but he still needed to pick up the food for the team lunch tomorrow. He rummaged through his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers and an old sweatshirt, worn soft over the years. Grabbing yesterday's jeans, he shimmied into them, before checking his cell phone. Vance hadn't tried calling him back in, and there was no way he'd leave Tony alone this weekend. There was a text from Ziva, saying she would be making rolls and a challah loaf. He left a quick message on her voice mail before he stripped the bed. He'd tossed and turned during the night and it was so crumpled he wanted fresh linens. Maybe that would help him sleep tonight.

As Gibbs made his way downstairs, he could hear Tony move about in his room.

"You up for some breakfast?" Gibbs called out as he passed the den on his way to get the morning paper.

"I could eat," Tony replied, poking a bleary eyed face around the door. His hair was sticking up in all directions. Tony was leaning heavily on one of his crutches as he pulled the door fully open with his other hand. Gibbs closed the front door behind him, focusing his attention on Tony.

"Sleep ok?" Gibbs asked, as he studied Tony's face for any signs of pain or fatigue. Tony looked pale, but not too tired. He had a bit of swelling on one side of his face, but the bruises had taken on a different color.

"Yeah, no Romulans," Tony replied, walking towards the kitchen. Gibbs followed his progress. He moved better today, not as slowly as yesterday. Another sign he wasn't in as much pain, Gibbs decided.

"Any headaches?" Gibbs asked as he trailed after Tony into the kitchen.

"No, _Mum_, I'm fine," Tony said, annoyance seeping into his voice. "Sorry," he said sheepishly when Gibbs glared at him. "Just ease up on the third degree, okay, Boss? I'm not..," Tony paused. "I'm fine," he finished, glancing up at Gibbs.

"Jethro," Gibbs said.

"What?" Tony asked, a look of confusion fleeting over his face.

"I'm glad you're fine, Tony. I also told you to call me Jethro, remember? We're not on the job here."

A small smile crossed Tony's face and his eyes lit up. It was always the small things with Tony; he's forgotten how much he appreciated a word of praise, of acceptance. Not for the first time he wanted to kick DiNozzo Sr's sorry ass, for messing up his son the way he had. Not that Gibbs was without blame. 'I'll do better,' he vowed as he placed bagels and cream cheese on the table, along with cold cuts and a variety of things he hoped Tony liked.

They'd been eating for a while, Tony telling about a trip he'd made to Atlantic City with a couple of his frat buddies, when the door bell rang.

"I asked Ducky to come by," Gibbs said as he went to open the door.

"Morning, Gibbs." Ducky sounded decidedly too cheerful for Gibbs' liking. He'd only had one cup of coffee yet. And if he was lucky, Ducky wouldn't notice anything was off. Something which, he realized with a sigh, was very unlikely. About the same time as hell froze over or Ducky ran out of stories.

Ducky entered the kitchen and looked closely at both men. Gibbs had returned to his seat at the kitchen table and was sipping from a large mug undoubtedly filled with coffee strong enough to strip paint. Tony was reading the sports section of the Post, looking better than he had the last time Ducky had seen him.

"Here to check up on me, Ducky?" Tony asked, as he glanced up from his paper. College football, Ducky noted. "Ohio prevails," he said, nodding at the headline.

"Yeah," Tony replied, a gleeful smile on his face, "Ohio's defense intercepted four passes, recovered two fumbles and sacked Miami quarterback Zac Dysert five times!"

"Oh, my!" Ducky wasn't really paying attention to what Tony was saying. American football had never been one of his favorite sports. He much preferred cricket. Tony went on about last night's game for a while, as Ducky took the opportunity to study Gibbs while the wonders of the Ohio defense were hailed.

Before he had a chance to say anything, the front door flew open and Abby called out as she entered.

"You really should lock your front door, Gibbs. You've got precious cargo in the house now, you know!" she said teasingly, completely ignoring Tony's loud objections.

"I'm a big boy, Abby, I'm perfectly able to take care of myself," he protested. Abby simply kissed Tony on the top of his head and flopped down in the chair beside him. "I've got donuts," she declared, placing a big box in the middle of the table. "So, how is everyone this morning?" Abby asked, looking around the table.

"I understand you had quite the nightmare last evening, Tony." Ducky accepted Gibbs' offer of a cup of tea and studied Tony's face for signs of fatigue. He silently berated himself for not having thought of counseling for Tony sooner. Things had moved too quickly at the hospital, both Gibbs and Tony so intent on getting him out of there.

"What!" Abby shrieked. "Why didn't you tell me, Tony," she admonished, hitting him lightly over the head.

"It wasn't that bad," Tony protested. "And I slept all through the night."

"He did," Gibbs said. Ducky looked at him curiously, had they spent the night together?

Ducky saw the moment Gibbs realized how his statement could be taken. His face blanked, and he turned to towards the counter again, grabbed a box of tea bags and started peeling the plastic off. After failing his third attempt, he unceremoniously sliced the pack open, dumping the bags in an empty jar he yanked out of a cupboard by the oven. He threw a tea bag in a mug and filled it with boiling water.

"I didn't know drank you much tea, Jethro," Ducky said as Gibbs thumped the mug down in front of him.

"I don't," was the curt answer. Ducky didn't reply, just took a cautious sip of the steaming brew.

"I bought it in case DiNozzo wanted it," Gibbs continued. Ducky saw Tony flush lightly and a smile played around his lips. Ducky mentally rolled his eyes at the two men's inability to see that what they had was within reach. Well, Abby could be very persuasive. If anyone could make this happen, it would be their resident matchmaker.

"You still should have told me," Abby said quietly. "I would have stayed with you, made sure you didn't have any more nightmares. You should have made sure, Gibbs!"

"I did, Abbs. I checked up on Tony a couple of times last night. He slept soundly if his snoring was anything to go by. I could hear him from the top of the stairs," Gibbs said, smiling lightly.

"Hey! I do not snore," Tony said, poking his finger at Gibbs. Gibbs just snatched the sports pages and refilled his coffee.

"Now, now!" Ducky admonished. "If you two can't play nice, I'll have to put you over my knees."

Tony choked on his drink and Ducky watched in fascination as his ears turned a bright red.

"Interesting!" Abby said, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Anything you'd like to share with the group, Tony?" she continued, laughing as Tony tried to silence her with his best impression of a Gibbs glare.

Knowing when to stop, Ducky opened the box of donuts Abby had brought, the incident seemingly forgotten. He could see Gibbs throwing little glances at Tony, an intent expression on his face.

An hour later Abby and Tony were seated in the living room, Abby chatting away while Tony listened, leaning back in Gibbs' old, soft chair. Ducky watched Abby's animated face as she was giving him the full story of her latest date, her hands flying through the air as she told her tale. Tony had a soft smile on his face, interjecting a word here and there, as he listened.

Ducky turned back to Gibbs who had finished the sports section and moved on to the Metro section of the Post.

"Anything happen last night?" he asked Gibbs. "You look tired."

"No." Gibbs offered nothing more as he held his eyes firmly on the newspaper in front of him.

"Fine, Have it your way. I'm a patient man," Ducky said. "I want to check up on Tony, then I'll be on my way. I'm meeting Mr. Palmer at 11, so I better get a move on."

"Do we have a case?" Gibbs asked, checking his cell phone.

"Inventory," Ducky sighed. "It's been very hectic lately, so I'm afraid we're forced to spend Saturday counting rubber gloves."

Gibbs just snorted and got up. "Abbs, you staying? I need to head out for a while." He walked into the living room and picked up his wallet from the coffee table. "You need anything?"

"Beer still off the table?"

Gibbs just shook his head, smiled fondly and was off.

"Would you like Abby to leave the room, Tony? I need to examine you."

"He'll be fine," Abby scoffed, got up and pulled Tony t-shirt over his head. "Tony is a fine specimen of the species, but I think I've seen…." She trailed off, looking in horror at Tony's torso. "Oh…"

"Abby, could you fetch my bag from the hallway, please." Ducky said quietly, sensing Tony's discomfort.

"What? No. Yes. Bag, right." She went to fetch the bag as Ducky pulled a chair over and sat down next to Tony. He reached out and patted Tony gently on the shoulder.

"So, my dear boy, how are you feeling?" Ducky asked. Abby had placed the bag by Ducky's chair and sat quietly by Tony's feet, rubbing gently up and down his calf.

"I'm much better," Tony said, tugging at Abby's pigtails. "Much, much better," he repeated when Abby glanced up at him.

Ducky took his vitals, examined his dressings and fussed about for a while, asking questions as he went.

"Do we need to we call Palmer?" Tony asked.

"What? Ah, very clever, Tony. No, you'll be fine." Ducky ran his fingers gently over the goose egg on the back of Tony's head. "The swelling's going down, any headaches?"

"No," Tony replied. "Not today. My leg aches a bit, and I'm still a little sore from the beating. Nothing I can't manage though."

"Any numbness, pins and needles?"

"Not that I've noticed, no."

"Let me know if the pain gets worse or you're running a fever." Ducky looked sternly at Tony who nodded quickly. "I promise," he replied.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Be sure to get the rest you need. No strenuous activities." He picked up his bag and asked Abby to walk him to the door.

"I'll stay until the Bossman comes home," she assured him. Abby lowered her voice. "We'll talk later about OLB," she said, winking before giving him a peck on his cheek.

Ducky had a small smile on his face as he unlocked the door on his Morgan. Another week in Tony's company would surely break through the defenses of any man, even one as stubborn as Gibbs.


	11. A quick update!

A quick update!

I've been getting a few inquires about an update on The Road Less Traveled. I have to apologize for not posting any updates on this story for a long time. A couple of days after my last posting I had a bad fall on the ice and twisted both knees. I've been in a lot of pain for over a month and that has affected my writing :/ I've written drafts of ch 11, but they all end up very Mary Sueish... Tony is in an awful lot of pain, and Gibbs is cranky all the time...LOL.

I got the results of the MRI this week. My right knee isn't too bad, just stretched ligaments. My left knee may need surgery. The ligaments are badly stretched and I broke a piece of my femur. I may need to remove that and to repair the ligament. *sigh* On a happier note, my friends and colleagues have been wonderful. They've helped me with groceries, fire wood and stuff around the house. They've picked me up for work and driven me home (about 100 meters...LOL which right now have been far too long to walk...) I'm really grateful I have them in my life

So, as soon as I'm better, I'll finish the story. I don't intend to leave it hanging, I just need to feel a bit better.


End file.
